


Dead Signal

by Epselion



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Trauma, UFO mentions, alien theories, also not advisable if you feel uncomfortable with really prominent signs of a disturbed mind, and some of these characters up there die, and the clapback that goes with that, creepy stuff happening, in case that sets people off, just as a safe warning, like very up close and explicit, mentions of death but not among main characters, people suck, so beware if you cannot stomach that, this will also mention non-verbal autism on a character, will contain mercy-kill on a roadkill accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epselion/pseuds/Epselion
Summary: 15 years ago, Hux's twin brother Techie disappeared in their hometown of Kettering in Tasmania. The circumstances of his disappearance are downright weird, but Hux remembers nothing of the night. Since then he has gone to London and made a life for himself, but it continues to haunt him- So much even that one day he suffers a severe psychotic episode, travelling home in a haze. He realizes then that this will never stop on its own, and while he is there- He might as well try to remember, try to find closure. But now that he is home it starts happening again- A boy in town disappears, and everyone looks at the one new person in town; Hux.





	1. Failure to process.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is very dear to me. Please, please read all the warnings. I know there are so many of them but they are needed. I know some of you might not like some of the tropes that play here and I do not want anyone to get upset! So please, read the stuff before you start on this. However, when you do, please let me know it when you enjoy what you are reading! It would make me so happy :D

_“You cheat.”_

 

Hux looks up and scrunches up his nose, laughing a bit at the face his sibling is making. He manages to look so insulted.

 

 _“I can swear to you, right now, that I do not cheat.”_ He assures, _“I’m just way better.”_

 

That gets a rise out of the other boy, throwing the cards in Hux’s face. Hux laughs and shakes his head a bit, picking them up and putting them back in the decks. His brother still needs to get a good grasp on the many different strategies that play a role in Magic the Gathering- Hux knows them all, like the nerd he is.

 

 _“We’ll play again tomorrow.”_ He promises, _“It’s getting late anyway.”_

 

They never play at home, instead they go out here to the fields or forests. Their father always tries to ruin their time together.

 

 _“Armitage… One more game, please?”_ His twin begs him, giving him a sheepish grin.

 

 _“We should get home. The sun is setting.”_ Hux insists, _“There’s always tomorrow.”_

 

His brother sighs and reaches behind his head, pulling his hair together and fixing it into a ponytail. The two of them are near identical, as kids there was no telling who was who- But since they hit puberty they had started to grow into more of their own identities. Hux had become preppy, his private school influencing the way he liked to dress and present himself- He also realized that he had stopped thinking of himself as Armitage and more as Hux, because it’s up to him to keep their family-name high. His brother struggles more. He’s socially stilted, and it shows in his grades and interaction. He likes being alone- Or with Hux, struggles once  he’s in the presence larger groups, much to their father’s disdain.

 

Where Hux dresses in button-downs and slacks, even on days off, his twin favours sweaters that fall over his arms and hands, even more if they have a hood to hide away in. And where Hux has a short head of hair that is usually parted with care and smoothed with hair-product, his brother has long hair, almost wild, that he can only make something of when he pulls it all together in a ponytail.

 

Hux snickers as he walks over to hand his brother his coat, tucking their stuff back into the messenger bag he brought with him. The weather is still relatively friendly this time of year, but once the sun sets it cools fast- Not too mention that the roads here are unlit, and Hux does not like biking home in the dark.

 

_“Techie, hurry up.”_

 

_“Yeah, yeah… Hold your horses, jeez...”_

 

_“You know dad doesn’t want us out when it’s dark.”_

 

 _“Dad doesn’t want us out period.”_ His twin complains. _“It’s like he believes that we are summoning demons out here somewhere or something.”_

 

_“Well… We sort of were.”_

 

 _“My elves are not demons.”_ Techie mutters, _“Besides, it’s just a game.”_

 

Hux shrugs and lifts his bike from the ground, picking off the grass that sticks to it. They walk back to the road in silence, stepping up once they get there. It’s quiet, there is never much traffic on these roads to begin with and in the evenings it’s always calm here. Techie huffs and drapes himself over the handlebar of his bike, swerving a bit.

 

_“I’m going to hate it when you go back to boarding school.”_

 

Hux looks at him and smiles thinly.

 

_“The Academy is good for me though- If I get good grades there I can be whatever I want to be when I go to college.”_

 

 _“Yeah… You can...”_ Techie says sourly, _“Meanwhile I am stuck with dad, and all the fucking ‘social exercises’. They treat me like I am retarded at that school.”_

 

 _“You’re not.”_ Hux admonishes. _“They are just not on our level.”_

 

_“Can’t you talk about it with dad?”_

 

_“I tried. He doesn’t believe me- You have to start talking to him yourself.”_

 

_“He doesn’t speak our language.”_

 

Hux stops his bike and sets it by the side of the road, making his brother brake fast not to overshoot too much. Techie gets off his own and turns to look at his brother, eyes curious.

 

_“We can’t keep talking in our secret language forever though.”_

 

 _“But if we speak English- Everyone starts listening in.”_ Techie says, fidgeting. _“And then they’ll judge me.”_

 

 _“Yeah- But they kind of do already.”_ Hux murmurs. _“I mean, you only talk to me… You can’t stay non-verbal to everyone else forever.”_

 

Techie shakes his head a bit, hugging his arms around his waist, grabbing onto himself tightly.

 

_“I don’t wanna.”_

 

_“I’ll try talking to dad… But you are going to have to come out of your own comfort-zone a bit too. Otherwise you’re never going to move forward.”_

 

Techie shuffles with his feet and shrugs a bit again, not responding. Hux smiles thinly but he doesn’t push. Of course it’s easy for him to talk. He doesn’t have Techie’s issues- He cannot relate to them, not really anyway. He just wants more for him- Hopes he can push him to break through the things that hold him back. Unfortunately their father doesn’t help much. He tries to shock it out of Techie by yelling at him a lot- Or punishing him. He doesn’t seem to realize that such things only set him back more.

 

_“Come on. The sooner we’ll get home, the sooner I can make us dinner.”_

 

They always cook for themselves. Brendol barely eats at the house, always too busy with all sorts of work that he won’t tell them about. Hux doesn’t care, there are always groceries to make something with, and they can always have what they like best for dinner. It’s all simple enough. He walks back to his bike and steps onto it again, ready to go on.

 

 _“What’s that?”_ Techie suddenly asks.  

 

 _“What’s what?”_ Hux sighs.

 

_“That!”_

 

He turns and follows the line of his twin’s outstretched arm. Between the trees they can both see it, in the vague darkness of the beginning evening there’s a weird sort of glow. Hux squints his eyes a bit and tries to look closer. It’s a group of lights, and they are far away, sort of hazy in the oncoming evening fog. They look big, even from this distance.

 

 _“I have no idea.”_ Hux murmurs. _“It almost looks like  flashlights, but bigger...”_

 

They both stare as they close in, accompanied by a deep humming noise- It’s pulsing almost a hypnotic beat that Hux can feel deep in his chest. It’s off-putting, incredibly so, he can feel his heartbeat pick up in anticipation. The lights close in, and by now they are so bright that Hux has to squint his eyes in order to see. Techie has latched onto his arm and grips his sleeve tightly, staring ahead with something akin to fascination.

 

 _“We should go and check them out.”_ Techie murmurs.

 

_“What? No!”_

 

Techie doesn’t listen to him, he lets go of Hux’s arm and starts to walk to the roadside, clambering up against the hill- Towards the treelines. Hux shakes his head and looks at the floating lights again, that hum buzzing and resonating so deep into his chest that he cannot even really pick up how fast his heart has started beating. Everything in him seems to scream in alarm- Telling him to run away, fast… And yet.

 

_“Techie!”_

 

 _“Don’t you hear it? It’s calling!!”_ Techie shouts back to him.

 

_“Come back.”_

 

His brother ignores him, his scruffy sneakers slipping in looser dirt when he clambers up higher, already between the trees, his red hair swaying behind him. Mud is starting to cling to the hems of his old jeans, and the sleeves of the ratty sweater he has on. It’s like he doesn’t care.

 

_“Techie!!”_

 

Hux curses and takes a deep breath, running up to the roadside. Slipping and climbing after his brother- Onwards towards the lights that keep closing in.

 

 

**15 years later.**

 

“What time is it?”

 

It has happened again- Oh fuck it has happened again. The glare of the flashlight is hurting his already aching brain. He narrows his eyes and the police officer finally gets the hint, lowering the lamp to somewhere on his chest instead.

 

“Sir, are you okay, do you know where you are?”

 

“What time is it?!”

 

Panic starts to set in, dear God not again.

 

“What time is it?” He asks, almost a whimper now.

 

“It is 4 AM, sir. Can you tell us where you are? Do you know where you are?”

 

He casts his eyes to the side, seeing a few bags of garbage there, a street-lamp not far. In the distance he hears a vague pulse from night-clubs and chatting people. He takes a deep inhale, his pulse slowly coming to a less erratic pounding.

 

“Soho.” He answers with a croak in his voice. “This is Soho.”

 

“Have you been drinking? Doing drugs?” The cop inquires further, leaning back when he starts rising to his feet.

 

“No.” He just murmurs, trying to steady himself as the world tilts.

 

“Sir, we need to-”

 

“I’m fine, Gods, just leave me alone.” He snaps, then with softer voice he adds. “It’s nothing.”

 

“We would like for you to be looked at by a doctor- Something might be-”

 

“I _am_ a doctor. I am fine, just let me go home.”

 

He almost falls over again as he tries to turn away and he takes a deep inhale through his nostrils, only then noticing that they are clogged and crusty around the edges. He reaches up a hand and huffs when he feels the sticky remnants of a bloody nose.

 

“With all due respect-”

 

He groans and fishes out his license, showing the hospital-badge to the police-man so he can see for himself.

 

“I just forgot to take my medication- Now please, I just want to go home.”

 

The cop sighs and reaches into his pocket, taking out a bill that he presses in the hand that holds the badge out.

 

“Take a cab.” He simply says. “Before you run into some bloody car.”

 

He nods, slowly inhaling again as he leans against the wall of the alley he finds himself in. He can tell the police-man is confused, that he is eyeing him when he starts to walk for the main street again. He huffs when he is far enough out of sight and slowly reaches up to rub at his temples, soothing his headache before he reaches into his coat-pocket, taking out his cell-phone and pressing the record button.

 

“Monday July 17th, 2017- 4 in the morning...” He starts. “Lost approximately 7 hours, last conscious memory: Watching TV at the apartment in the evening around 9. Woke up disoriented and allegedly collapsed in an alley in Soho. Signs of excessive nosebleed, heavy migraine, excessive nausea, light-headedness… Pulse upon waking up about 170, currently at- Ten minutes later, reduced to 120, ears are buzzing and vision is slightly blurred.”

 

He looks at his hands and sighs.

 

“Beginning signs of hypothermia.”

 

He ends the recording and fishes up a tissue from his coat, wiping at his nose.

 

“Well fuck...”

 

\---

 

He sits alone in his apartment, keeping it dark so that his head can have some reprieve. He craves a drink, a stiff one- But the better part of him reminds him that it won’t mix well with his pills. He huffs out another breath and instead falls back on the bed. The sheets are cold, he’d left the windows open the whole time he was out. He’s lucky nobody broke in… Lucky- He is too lucky too often. He yawns and stares up at the ceiling. The sun has started to rise, and he can see the lazy circling of his ceiling-fan, following the small product-sticker with every rotation. It’s almost hypnotizing to watch. He blinks at it lazily a few times before his eyelids start feeling too heavy and he falls asleep for the few hours he still has to rest.

 

He startles when his alarm blares, so merciless that his head cries out at him again. He groans and turns away from it, covering his ears with his hands as he tries to block out the noise. It’s relentless though, so he shoots out his hand and slams it on top of the device. It stops mid-bleep and Hux scoffs, sitting on the edge of the bed with a soft sigh. He cannot have slept more than two hours by now, and it feels like that too, he’s ragged. He’s still in the same clothes, they are all creased and twisted on him now- He feels filthy. God knows what was in that pile of garbage where he woke up. He slowly lifts his head and breathes in deep, lifting off the bed before he loses his motivation to move at all.

 

It’s dead quiet, like everything is holding its breath- Or perhaps he is still dissociating… He’s not even sure anymore. He feels the carpet under his bare feet, soft and comforting… Like a solid hug to ground him- As good as he is going to get anyway- He doesn’t really have anyone to hug around here. He walks around the apartment for a while, trying to see if there is anything he has done here that he cannot recall doing. The TV is off, so he turned it off sometime during his… Escapade. The door was closed too when he came home- But a neighbour could have closed it for him. He sighs and instead grabs the small stack of mail from the doormat. None of it matters, none of it is stuff he cares for.

 

_A. Hux._

 

A letter and a family-name, an identity reduced to a single letter and a legacy of relativity. More relatable than that is not possible. He feels like that's all he is, a single letter attached to a family he was never truly part of. Beyond paper, anyway.. He scoffs and tosses the bundle of envelopes on the small coffee-table before he bee-lines to the bathroom. He is dragging his feet, feeling tired to the core by the time he has made it there, clicking on the light. It’s suddenly so much compared to the soft darkness of his apartment’s curtained darkness. He had already chosen for softer lights, and yet the transition feels harsh. He covers his eyes a bit with one hand as he closes the door and slowly accustoms himself the light. When it no longer strains his retinas or sends shards of pain up to his brain he steps up to the sink.

 

He has a large counter and mirror, knowing he is the type that uses the bathroom for his entire morning-routine from washing up to dressing and fashioning himself- He needs the counter-space and the mirror makes the rather cramped room look like it’s at least not too claustrophobic. Right now, though, he regrets that it’s there, because it won’t allow him to escape from looking at himself- And Christ Almighty what a mess he is. He still has his sweater-vest on, but it has twisted to the side and the collar has ended up somewhere on his shoulder, the hem of it is all the way up to his ribs and there is an odour of sweat coming off of him that is not to be mentioned ever in his life. He feels disgusting. His hair is a mess of spikes because he neglected to wash out his hair-product, and his pants are wet with something that he fears is not water, the buckle of his belt has left a thick indent in his stomach.

 

“Let’s hope to God that nobody ever sees you like this you utter twat. It would not do you any good.” He mutters to himself.

 

He takes off all his clothes, throwing the pants out altogether when he notices the gross mustardy stain on the back of the legs. The rest of his clothing goes straight into the laundry-basket. He leaves his belt on the counter and he unstraps his watch from his wrist as well, huffing as he sees the deep marks that has left in his skin. Once undressed he looks back into the mirror. There is no fixing this train-wreck… But he has to try. He has to be at work, and he is still a respected doctor- He just does very much not look it at the moment. He tries shocking some of the tiredness off his face with some cold water from the tap. It is barely effective, but at least he no longer looks like he has staggered home from killing a man.

 

He grips his hands around the edge of the counter and stares himself down. The light of the bathroom makes his skin glow. It’s already so white, and the light almost reflects off it. He’s skinny, and the part of him that thinks like a doctor says he’s too skinny. There is a jut where the sharper bones lie under his skin and they look ridgy, he knows it’s even more prominent at his spine. It doesn’t show easily in his clothes, he has ones that are well-tailored and despite his lack of weight he keeps fit… Not that he is the sort that bulks up much whatever he does. Still he makes a bit of a sorry sight without clothes on. Luckily there’s distraction from that on his head, his hair a flare of bright red strands. It brings some life even on days that the rest of him looks gaunt. He keeps the hair neat, cut short and parted to the side, it’s professional and correct- Just how he likes it.

 

He’s not too bad on the eyes to begin with, though his looks are not classically masculine, he’s lucky with good genes and delicate features. Attractive enough to catch some eyes. He has a soft jawline and a full mouth, from his mother- so he’s been told. A narrow nose with a prominent round tip- A typical sight that he has inherited from his father. Sharp cheekbones and a stern brow counter his softer features, leaving place for almond-shaped eyes with long golden eyelashes. At the hospital they refer to him as pretty boy- But they say it with a sneer, emphasizing that he looks boyish at times, because of the softer edges he has and his narrower build. He cannot find the energy to be bothered by what they think, they are just colleagues- Necessary evil. He has always been more focused on himself anyway.

 

He peeks at the clock-face of his watch, seeing that he is going to be hopelessly late anyway. He may as well take his time, hoping that he can fix himself up to decency enough that his excuses will not sound like blatant lies. He takes a long shower, glad that it helps to ease the stiffness in his limbs from spending far too much time in the cold of the night. He washes thoroughly and shaves the sparse stubble on his chin, knowing that a smooth shave will only help lift his credibility. When he steps out he looks better, but there is no hiding the hollow shadows under his eyes, dark and prominent, making him look tired. It will have to do though, so he grabs his watch from the counter and walks back to the bedroom. It feels good to be cast back into the softer darkness of his apartment, like a more gentle blanket that he would love to stay under for the day if he had the chance.

 

His phone rings from somewhere, and he is confused at first where it’s coming from. Usually he keeps the device on his night-stand, close to reach and easy to access. It is more distant than that, so he goes through the apartment, bare feet blindly avoiding every bit of furniture he could stub against in the half dark. The sound comes from his coat, he’d left that on the rack in the hallway and his phone is still in there. He fishes it out fast and presses it to his ear without checking the caller-ID.

 

“Hux.” He answers, glad that he does not sound like he spent a night in the gutter.

 

“Where are you? Your shift starts in 15 minutes and we need to talk.”

 

His boss, isn’t that just great? He sighs and wipes a hand down his face.

 

“I know, I know… I got held up. I’ll be there in 30.”

 

“Come to my office when you do.” Sloane does not sound pleased, not in the least. “And you better have an explanation when you arrive.”

 

“I do.” He insists. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Just hurry.”

 

The call ends without leaving time for him to answer and he sighs. That definitely is not a good sign. He has a lot of credit with Sloane, but she seems pissed, and he wonders if he has spent his benefits. He shakes his head and instead pulls clothes from his wardrobe, deciding to hurry along. He dresses in grey slacks and a soft lavender dress-shirt- Clean and professional. He returns to the bathroom to fashion his hair and put on some cologne before he steps into his Oxfords and takes his coat. He pats down the pockets to make sure his wallet and such are still in it before he takes the car-keys and leaves the apartment behind. Traffic is low, and he is glad for it when he speeds a bit more along the highway than he usually would.

 

Once he arrives he is slightly flustered from running and he tries to look a bit more composed as he steps into the elevator at the parking garage. It is mostly empty and he uses the short ride up to make sure he has not stained his coat as well during his… Adventure… Last night. He sure hopes not, it is one of the most expensive things he owns, a dark red trench coat from Burberry. He has bought it once on a whim, intending to return it after wearing it to some event he needed to look posh for, but the thing grew on him and he lost the receipt, three years later and the thing still looks new- And he cannot say he is sorry for the massive amount of money that he put in it. And he is happy to conclude that it is still relatively pristine, no odd stains to be found.

 

The elevator pings and he is joined by one of the nurses, who regards him with a short nod before he continues to read over the charts he is holding, eyes shifting to the side sometimes, almost suspiciously. Hux keeps his head down, playing with the edge of his phone in his coat-pocket. He doesn’t like being scrutinized- Especially not as obviously as this. He inhales shortly and briskly walks out when he gets to his floor, trying to decide whether he should make his rounds first or report to Sloane immediately. He decides that her urgency from earlier probably means she wants to see him right away, so he just heads straight for her office at the end of the long hallway. He huffs out a breath and absently runs his hand along the back of his head as if he is trying to fix something that is already perfectly in place. He knocks and waits, eyes gliding across the hallway while he stands there.

 

“Come in.”

 

Hux ducks his head and opens the door, stepping inside before he raises his head again to greet his boss. Sloane has aged, but she is still right on her game. Her face is stern and her gaze sharp. She looks him in the face once and scoffs.

 

“You look like absolute shit.” She sneers. “Close the door.”

 

Hux sighs and pushes the door back until it clicks into place. Sloane does not spare him a second glance as she walks around her desk, sitting down at it. She crosses one leg over the other and straightens her ponytail, the scrunchie in it holding on for dear life around the massive head of curls the woman has. Finally she looks at him, long and hard, and Hux feels judged… Back on the level of judgement she used to look at him with when he was still one of the interns. She always pushed him most, seeing he would have the most potential to become anything at all, but since he’d gotten his license she hadn’t looked at him like this anymore, like she was trying to crack him under some invisible pressure.

 

“How do you feel?” She asks.

 

“Uh… Fine.” Hux answers, taken aback by the question. “About this morning- I am sorry, I know it is inexcusable but there was a phone-call and I-”

 

“Look, you’re never late so I could not give a rat’s ass about that this one time that you do- Given that you are usually an excellent pinnacle of punctuality. I just hope to bloody god you have a good excuse for last night.”

 

Hux blinks a few times before he shakes his head a bit.

 

“Last night… I don’t-”

 

“Were you drunk?” She inquires, that gaze on him so unrelenting that he starts to panic a bit. “Do you even remember?”

 

Hux crumples his brow and tries as hard as he can to pull up any recollection of what she is referring to. Sloane huffs, her nostrils flaring as she turns her laptop towards him. It has the grainy view of one of their security-cameras on it, and as she plays the feed she stares him down. Hux looks at her shortly before he directs his gaze as well, looking at the screen. The corridor is to a part of the ward he does not visit often- Thankfully. It leads to the morgue. When the time-stamp reads sometime just after 1 AM he sees himself. He is walking down the corridor with an absolute blank expression on his face, like he is completely out of it. He walks until he is halfway down the hall and halts. The sound of the camera is crappy, but he can make out that he has started to hum, a tune he is familiar with- But that he has not listened to or heard in years. He sees his back going rigid, hands clasping, feet positioned- Just like he used to do when… He lets out a ragged breath and reaches out, closing the laptop with a slam and turning away from it.

 

“You take antipsychotics, don’t you?”

 

“You know I do.” Hux bites at her. “You have my files.”

 

Sloane hums, standing up and taking her laptop back.

 

“Should this worry me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well it does. It might look harmless that you tap-dance like a zombie in some spaces- But to me it says those meds of yours might be running out of functionality.”

 

“It’s riverdance.” Hux protests weakly. “I… I used to do that as a kid.”

 

He shakes his head and grips around the table that faces away from Sloane, staring at the door. At least that accounts for a small part of his lost time, but it does not put him at ease. The way his face looked, slack and empty… In horror-movies that was the sort of footage of possessed souls, a demon waiting to snap out and devour whoever walks past. And the song… The fucking dancing… He cannot, cannot…

 

“Armitage.”

 

He turns slowly, noticing that his eyes are too wide open and that his heart has started racing again. He locks his jaw and swallows hard before he looks at Sloane again. She has her arms crossed and is looking at him in that way, that way she did when he got it wrong… When he fucked up.

 

“Close all your patient-files today during your shift and leave them on my desk, I’m giving all your cases to Rodinon for the time being.”

 

“What?” He asks weakly.

 

“I can’t put you to work before you have this sorted, get a psychological evaluation and maybe new medication. Don’t worry, I will not bring this to the boards- But I am putting you on leave until you’ve got a grip on this. This is the sixth time you walked in looking like you’ve been in a crack-den the night before- And if that means you’ve been having those episodes each time, I cannot let you do your job.”

 

“Dr. Sloane, please I-”

 

“You will be on paid leave, unless you haven’t had yourself tested before the 30th, in that case you’d be too much of a liability to keep on.”

 

Hux cocks his head and lets out a frustrated huff.

 

“You cannot be serious! I just-”

 

“Look into the goddamn mirror!! Do you know how many of the nurses have a betting pool on you? Huh?? They’re all mumbling among each other if you are a goddamn drug-addict… I keep defending your reputation because I know that you would never be so fucking stupid, but what am I going to say if you have one of those… Those… Whatever the fuck that was... In front of people?”

 

She angrily points at her laptop, and Hux pales a bit as he entertains the idea of having such a breakdown in public. He doesn’t know why they happen after all, why they trigger and why he has them in the first place.

 

“Okay.” He mumbles. “But for fuck’s sake, Rodinon? He is so incompetent.”

 

“You are in no position to talk shit.” Sloane hisses. “Now, get a fucking coffee and find a believable excuse why you look like you crawled out of a grave, in case people ask, last thing I need is a scandal.”

 

Hux nods wordlessly and rubs his neck compulsively as he tries to still his tongue. He wants to flip a table and punch a wall, maybe throw a chair through a window… But he has always been silent- Impulse-control is one of the many things he has mastered rather well. Instead he curls the fingers that rub over his neck so that his nails bite into his skin and he curses himself over and over again. Sloane sighs and waves at him.

 

“Go, get to work, the sooner you’re done the sooner you can go home to get some sleep- You look like you need it.”

 

Hux hums and turns on his heel, exiting the office without another word. He feels the world blurring for a bit, and he knows that it’s not from whatever it is that’s making a mess of his mind. This is disbelief, numbness. The doorknob barely registers in his fingertips as he pulls it shut and his footsteps feel unsteady. He walks to the closest restrooms and steps inside, bending over the sink and heaving a few times, gagging twice before he finally manages to draw in a breath. There’s a wave of cold sweat and he closes his eyes, grounding himself as he breathes in through his nose a few times. He feels like he is going to pass out. Eventually his fingers stop shaking enough for him to turn on the tap and he splashes water in his face, trying to pull himself back to the present. What is wrong with him, what is wrong with him? He stares into the mirror and levels his gaze.

 

“It has been 15 years.” He tells himself, his voice low and threatening as if he can scare himself straight. “Leave me alone.”

 

His face breaks up into a terrible grimace, a desperate look that goes with children.

 

“Just leave me alone.”

 

He sighs and digs into his pocket, opening the pill-bottle and swallowing two of them at once. He has always only taken one, but if it really is losing its functionality then he wants to regain control… But he is not stupid. This thing… This ‘event’ that he has been struggling with is not what the medication is for. Something far more substantial is wrong with him in that regard, and he hates that it appears to have gotten worse. 7 hours… He’s lost seven hours last night. That is almost half a day, and he has no idea what he does in that time, where he goes and why he blanks out in the first place. He stills his nerves, the pounding of his heartbeat has gone down and he feels the numbness subsiding. He has to get a grip, round this off correctly and then consider if he should really commit to a psychological evaluation.

 

“Get it together, Armitage. Keep it the fuck together.”

 

With that for a meagre pep-talk he exits the bathroom and instead moves to the staff-room to get ready. When he gets there it is mostly quiet and empty. Most of his colleagues are already at work and those that remain are the few that came out of a night-shift, picking up the courage to get home with the comfort of some coffee. He gives the people a bit of a nod and pours himself a cup of coffee as well, knowing it will be just the right temperature to drink by the time he has scrubbed down and put his coat on. This might be the last time in a while that he does his routine, a routine he’s been doing almost automatically for what seems like his entire life… The life he isn’t trying to forget anyway.

 

He sits down and makes quick work of the coffee. It has a terrible taste anyway, bitter like the night and with a remaining tang of something acrid. At least it’s free, that’s the only good thing about it. When he is done with it he throws out the cup and starts on his rounds. He doesn’t have a lot of long-term patients, which is a good thing mostly- He is fast and efficient with his diagnoses. He just has a few that stay longer, people he visits every day so he can sit with them a bit longer to find more tests to do. The odd cases. Those are the real challenges of course, the ones that make work here feel like it is still worth something, rather than a set of protocols that any machine might do just the same. He hopes Rodinon can live up to his work at least a little. The patients he has to leave in the man’s care deserve the best.

 

It feels like the day moves slowly, he can’t focus like he usually does, and when he collects the patient-files he feels a bitter sense of loss, knowing that the entire pile of it is leaving his office today. He looks through each of them one last time, not wanting to see them all off before he has gone over every piece of data again. He leaves notes for Rodinon in some of the binders, suggestions for tests or possible diagnoses he’s had in mind that need verifying. By the time that he is done with that it’s two in the afternoon, and he sits at his desk with heavy limbs. If he gets up now, he is getting up to leave- And he doesn’t want that… As long as he stays here, he is still at work. What happens if they find something? If he gets himself tested and they do uncover something that is worse than a few pills a day can fix… Then what? He would lose his job and he might never get hired again. What if they find nothing and he will never really be certain why his head is like this? What if he does nothing?

 

The uncertainty of it drives him insane, there are no assurances, there is nothing he can do. The worry goes straight to his head, not combining well with the fact that he still hasn’t eaten today. His skull starts pounding again and he closes his eyes, massaging the few pressure-points that offer the slightest bit of reprieve from the pulsing. He slowly stands up, gathering the files in his arms before he walks out, locking his office behind him with pursed lips. He cannot will the world to stop moving- There is only going forward now, and if he doesn't man up he will be stuck here forever. He sighs and pockets his keys before he once again walks to Sloane’s office. He doesn’t talk to her when he enters, just leaves the stack on the end of the desk.

 

“Your keys and card. I’m going to need those too.” Sloane says. “You’ll get them back when it’s sorted.”

 

He sighs heavily but pulls the keys from his pocket and unclips his card from his belt, putting them next to the files. His hand lingers, but before he can have a moment of absolute stupidity he retreats, taking a step back, looking at the face of his mentor with a thin smile.

 

“Here, I looked up a good psychoanalyst and called in a favour, he will see you at your earliest convenience if you give him a call. Nice and private… Nobody has to know, except me- I will get his advice on the matter by email.”

 

He takes the small card and chances a look at it. He is not familiar with Wilhuff Tarkin, but if Sloane says he is the best then he is. She is always thorough in her research.

 

“Don’t stall, Armitage…Best to bite the bullet- The sooner you go the sooner you'll be back at work.”

 

“And what if I have something that means I won’t be back at work?”

 

Sloane raises an eyebrow and then shrugs.

 

“It would have to be pretty bad before that happens. Your job will be here for you after whatever this is has been dealt with, even if that is another year. Don’t worry about it, just go home, call the guy and get some sleep. And maybe a sandwich or something too.”

 

“I will.” He mumbles. “See you soon then… I guess.”

 

He rubs his hand over his neck again, mentally reprimanding himself that he needs to lose that nervous gesture, he has a whole patch of irritated skin from all the rubbing and scratching his fingers do when he’s uneasy.

 

“See you soon.” Sloane confirms before she goes back to work, giving Hux a window to walk out without making it awkward.

 

He takes his leave. He keeps his head down as he walks, sure that there’s just about no colour left in his face. He feels like a wraith, and he does his best not to look like one. It’s quiet enough as he makes his march of silent shame back to the staff-room and changes back to his street-clothes, huffing when he closes his locker again. Somehow that Burberry coat weighs heavy on him now, he doesn’t want to be wearing it at this moment, it’s not the right one… It doesn’t fit… He flares his nostrils and angrily scratches at his neck, hissing when he finally tears the skin he’s pestered too much. There’s just a few drops of blood, but the bite is almost taunting. He smooths it over with a softer touch and inhales through his nose a few times, willing himself back to composure.

 

“Leaving early?” Rodinon asks.

 

Hux turns just in time to notice him by the coffee-machine, the droning of it indicating he has only just arrived to make some.

 

“Yeah… I’ll be out of town for a few days.”

 

“Out of town? Wow, now though? How did you get leave on such short notice?”

 

Hux sighs and turns to face him completely, leaning against the locker as he tries to look casual- Yet he is fairly sure that he has lost all sense of the word a long time ago.

 

“Family emergency- It’s not exactly protocol but Sloane understands.”

 

Rodinon looks him over once, then at his face more intently.

 

“You look like you are the family-emergency.”

 

Hux grimaces at that and pushes off the wall.

 

“How well do you sleep when your loved ones are in trouble?” He snaps at the man.

 

“Sorry, Hux… I didn’t mean-”

 

“Oh fuck off. Don’t bother- you already have my job for the time being.”

 

He starts stalking off, leaving that puffy-faced twat to his own little victory.

 

“I didn’t mean to set you off!” Rodinon calls after him.

 

He ignores it, sticking his hands into his pockets. Fucking asshole- Always taunting and groveling at the same time… Doesn't matter that it was a lie that Hux was telling in the first place, he’s just an insensitive jackass- And he always will be. Hux isn’t exactly the nicest himself, he keeps to his own company most times, but at least he’s honest and straight-forward… Not everyone always appreciates that. He keeps his head down and walks onwards towards the elevator, pressing the number for the parking-garage with a bit too much force. The doors slide shut and he feels submerged, the hospital is gone, the sounds and the sights of it have disappeared, there’s only the ever so faint jingle of music in this small space that takes him down to where his car is parked… Oddly enough he finds himself more at ease surrounded by this stupid box, taking him away from the life he is used to.

 

Once he gets down to the garage everything feels quiet and calm, himself included. He slowly walks to his car, the sound of his feet leaving a hollow sort of echo with every step. He checks his phone and sighs a bit, seeing that he hasn’t missed any messages- Like always. That’s the most prominent evidence of how fucking lonely he is. He can go days without a single notification on his screen- And when he does it’s usually that his storage needs updating or that some app wants him to get the new version. Maybe he ought to go out more- He has some time now that he has to get his wits checked… Maybe he can do something really lame and go to a bar or something. The idea annoys him, he doesn’t much care for bars. They are loud and always full of people- Drunk and noisy people… Irritating.

 

He shakes his head and finally reaches his car, unlocking it and sliding into the seat, sighing when he closes the door. It kills every single sound at once, like a muffled bubble. He can suddenly hear himself breathe again and every move gives a rustle with his coat. He puts his key in the ignition and rests his hands on the steering wheel, letting the leather pass under his fingers a few times. He closes his eyes for a moment before he moves his hand to the ignition, turning the key until the engine purrs to life. He sighs softly and sits back, clipping on his seatbelt. Time to leave… Time to go, and God knows when he’ll come back.


	2. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise that these updates are gonna stay weekly, there is a lot I'm working on at the moment. I do try to update a fic every week, so many of my projects might start appearing alongside each other and well- Take your pick of which you wanna read :p 
> 
> Also many thanks to Embershx on tumblr for helping me by doing the beta on this :D

 

It’s so bitterly cold that he shoots up in panic. Why is it so cold? He feels his fingers and toes protest, numb and stiff with the chill that has settled in them. He looks around in a frenzy, slowly managing enough focus to actually see what’s around him. He’s in a car, and it’s not his car. The driver-seat is reclined and it looks like he purposely slept here. He scrambles to sit up and turns his gaze to the windows, seeing that every single pane is covered in dense ice-flowers. How the fuck is that possible? It’s summer. Sure, London is not exactly known for its tropical weather, but this is insane. He fumbles around, making sure he is alone in here. He is, thankfully… He is not ready for waking up next to a stranger- Especially not when he cannot remember anything beyond… Beyond… Fuck. He looks himself over. He’s not wearing the same clothes anymore. He has his coat on, but under that he can see he has changed to black slacks rather than grey ones and his shirt is dark red. 

 

The panic sets in farther, his hands pulling out his phone as fast as he can from the small compartment between the two seats. He presses the home-button a few times but the thing stays dark. Dead… His phone is dead, just great. He turns to the back-seat and sees an overnight-bag there, his. In front of it are a few scattered tickets from things, but most prominent among all of it Hux sees his passport. He picks it up and swallows a bit when he sees what is folded into it. Plane-tickets, stubbed ones- Meaning they have been used. He opens his passport to look at the data on the tickets. They’re from today- July 17th… A flight to- Tasmania. His hands start shaking again and he scrambles to open the door of his car, pushing it open and almost tumbling out with it. The wind that bites in his cheeks is harsh and laced with winter-cold. He darts his eyes around, putting his hands in his hair when he has to admit that he is here… He is fucking here, of all places… 

 

He ducks back into the car and slams the door shut, breathing raggedly as his head races. How, how? How the hell did he manage to- He once again gets out of the car, stumbling a few steps before he heaves, throwing up in the long grass next to the road. It happens two more times before his stomach stops contracting and he steps back, trying as he always does to breathe through his nose in long and measured inhales. He has to leave, he has to get out of here, he has to get right back to the airport and leave. He cannot be here, cannot… Cannot. He clasps his arms over his head, lacing his hands together at the back of his neck, pressing back against them so he stops feeling like he is about to pass out. Finally he feels his lightheadedness fading and he reaches into his coat-pocket, cursing when he feels that the pill-bottle is almost empty. He needs new meds- Which would not worry him if he was back home… But no, here he is, in cursed Kettering.

 

He takes two pills out and throws them back, swallowing harshly. His fingers hurt and he can’t even feel his toes. It is so bitterly cold this time of year, he catches himself shivering when he finally gets to the ignition of the car. He turns it and listens in horror when it gives a few slow dry drags before falling still. The battery is dead… Just like his phone- How long has he been here? He opens the car-door again and opens the hood, scratching his neck a few times. He has nothing to revive the battery with… He is stuck here. He feels the panic surging again, his throat feels pinched and his heart starts rushing so fast again that he can feel the blood pumping ever faster. 

 

“Whoa, you okay there?” 

 

He turns so fast that he almost tips over, cursing the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that a car has pulled up. It is a godsend though, because getting off of this little mountain-road by foot would take him at least 2 hours. He knows these areas, and he hates that he does, that he still remembers it so well. Fifteen years, fifteen godforsaken years. 

 

“Uh, no… No not really, the battery is dead.” Hux stutters. 

 

“Damn. Tough luck out here then.”

 

Hux smiles thinly and then licks his lips.

 

“What- What day is it?” 

 

The man gives him a look, making a bit of a face before he shrugs. 

 

“Wednesday... The 19th.” 

 

Hux lets out a ragged breath and closes his eyes, cursing under his breath as he scuffs his feet a bit, trying to keep his cool- Even though it seems harder by the minute. 

 

“You look cold as hell. Did you sleep in there?” 

 

“Uh, yeah… I fell asleep before I realized it was this fucking cold.” 

 

The guy hums and walks over. He is tall, looking like he could just deadlift the car Hux has rented in his haze, a bear of a man indeed. He gently nudges Hux aside to look under the hood, feeling out some parts to see how long the car has been dead. 

 

“Ice-cold. Even jumpers aren’t going to start you up again. I can drive you to town so you can call a tow-truck for it- But that is the best I can do for you.” 

 

The guy shakes his hair from his eyes and gives him a small apologetic grin. He is handsome, Hux notes- With his long black hair and dark eyes, definitely not bad. He supposes that the man would not fit just anyone’s tastes. He has a rather large nose and prominently visible ears, an impossibly narrow jaw and thick lips. He is far from classic beauty-standards… But Hux is not one for classic and ordinary things anyway. 

 

“What are you even doing up here anyway?” The stranger asks him.

 

“I- I was on my way to town- From the airport.” 

 

“Huh, you don’t strike me as a Kettering local. The accent for one isn’t really from here.” 

 

Hux shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets, hoping they’ll warm up a bit soon. The wind is so cold and vicious up here that he only feels himself chill down more.

 

“Family business.” He lies. “I haven’t been back here in ages. I live in London now, you see… Not exactly around the corner.” 

 

The other narrows his eyes then and hums. 

 

“Are you, by any chance, Brendol’s kid?” 

 

Hux grimaces a bit and sighs.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Wow… I heard a lot about you over the years… Are you back for your dad’s retirement party?” 

 

“My dad’s- Yeah… Yeah, a bit of a whim I guess. I had to come back someday- This was a good excuse I suppose.”

 

“Cool, welcome back to town. I’m Kylo, by the way. Kylo Ren.” 

 

“You’re not a local either. I would have known you.”

 

“Ugh yeah, mom dragged me here as a teen and then left again for her oh-so-important business- Leaving me to do whatever out here.” Kylo huffs, closing the hood again and gesturing to his own SUV. “Come, my car is nice and heated, you look like you could use it.” 

 

Hux smiles and nods a bit, wrapping his arms around himself.

 

“Let me get my bag and stuff.” 

 

Kylo chuckles and waves his hand a bit, indicating that Hux can take his time. It’s still early enough- The morning is still fresh and the sun is not yet fully risen. It is the middle of winter around here, and even though it’s usually milder here, the nights are bitterly cold. Hux realises he is lucky that he did not sag into a worse hypothermia, the car must have held out through a lot of the night before the battery died off. He reaches into the back and grabs his bag, tucking his phone and his passport inside of it. He makes sure he does not leave anything else behind before he takes the keys out of it and locks up. He looks out over the road. He has driven near the coast, the sea is sweeping against the shore dozens of feet below them and on the other side the forest stretches on across the horizon. It’s wild here, lonely and forgotten- He doesn’t belong here, hasn’t belonged here for so long he feels lost and out of place.

 

“All set?”

 

“I think so. I have the important stuff anyway.”

 

Kylo opens the passenger-door and lets Hux step in, making sure he is settled before he closes the door. He hoists himself in when Hux props his bag between his feet and he reaches over to turn up the heating-fans. 

 

“If you’re hungry we can stop at the coffee-house. They have a phone there.” 

 

“That would be great.” Hux murmurs. “Thank you so much.” 

 

Kylo smirks. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. I make this trip so often, it starts to get dull, now I have someone to talk to at least.” 

 

Hux nods and presses his frigid hands on the warmth of the fans, sighing a bit. Kylo’s car smells like him, like a prominent cologne that is meant to overpower sweat rather than leave a lingering scent. It mixes with earthy scents, leaving Hux to expect that Kylo lingers in the woods a lot, either for work or for leisure. A faint tone comes from the leather interior, and all in all it makes for a pleasant sort of atmosphere in the car. 

 

“Tell me, how is life on the other side of the globe?” Kylo asks when he starts to drive away from the parked car. 

 

“Warmer than here, that’s for sure.” 

 

Kylo snorts a bit and hums.

 

“I can imagine. You know, I was actually born near London, funny how small the world is sometimes. You moved to where I once lived, and I did the same the other way around.”

 

Hux smiles thinly and directs his gaze out the window, staring at the way the horizon flashes by.

 

“You said you’ve heard a lot about me, huh.” He says. “So you know-”

 

“About the Incident, yes.”

 

“The Incident.” Hux repeats, a wry smile twisting onto his face. “Is that how they want to call it?” 

 

“Well… It kinda is, isn’t it? Since nobody really knows what happened that night and everything.”

 

Hux turns his eyes to Kylo, seeing his apprehensive stare.

 

“I told them what happened. I told them what I saw- What I remembered, and they told me I’d lost it.”

 

“It must have been traumatic-” Kylo simply says. “You can’t blame them for questioning your story- Especially since your story was… Odd, at best.” 

 

“I know what I saw.” Hux says, not breaking eye-contact. “And I have not come back to discuss it.” 

 

“Fine, fine… Sorry.” Kylo admonishes. “I can’t help it- It’s the job, you see.” 

 

“The job.” Hux echoes. “What is your job exactly?”

 

“I am a psychologist… I do therapy around here mostly. You would be surprised how many of these townsfolk have demons in their heads.” 

 

Hux feels his face fall a bit. Of all the people- He groans a bit and shakes his head. His entire life is one big fucking dumpster-fire of bitter irony and haunting memories- And here he sits with the town-shrink. Dear fucking God why? 

 

“And, what did you end up doing after the big move?” Kylo asks, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Hux is on the very limits of bursting out in either tears or manic laughter.

 

“I’m a doctor.” Hux says, softly. “Head physician at a hospital in London.”

 

“Wow, big shot.”

 

Hux laughs a bit and shakes his head. 

 

“I worked hard for it, took me a long time… But it was what I needed after I left- Something to focus on… When you work you don’t have to face your demons.”

 

“Ah, so you  _ do  _ have demons.”

 

“Yes.” Hux begrudgingly admits. “Don’t we all?”

 

“Indeed. You ought to be more worried when you don’t have any. Means you are either really stupid- Or disturbed.”

 

“Does my dad visit you?” Hux asks then, too curious to let it rest. 

 

“That is confidential.” Kylo snickers. “And you know that.”

 

“Worth the try.” 

 

Kylo snickers. 

 

“But hypothetically speaking, it would be possible to run into your dad near my practise… You know, as pure coincidence of course.”

 

Hux raises his eyebrow. That does surprise him- His dad, that rigid twat of all people would actually willingly seek out a therapist… Hux supposes everyone has their breaking point. 

 

“Where are you staying? I could drop you off.” 

 

“Staying? Oh… Right… My dad’s house I think.”

 

Kylo scoffs a bit, laughing and shaking his head.

 

“You think? You are terrific at making plans.”

 

“Like I said… It was a bit of a whim.” 

 

Finally his fingers feel supple again, but he still presses close for some warmth. He feels cold to the core, something that will not go away until he’s had a hot shower- Or some food. His stomach feels empty- And with all the time he’s lost he has no idea when he last ate or drank something. The thought apparently causes a final stir, and his stomach lets out the most obnoxious whining noise. Hux closes his eyes for a moment and huffs out a breath, feeling his ears colour red when Kylo starts laughing a bit next to him. 

 

“When was the last time you ate?”

 

“I honestly do not know.” 

 

“How can you not know? My day literally revolves around meal-times.” Kylo huffs. “I wonder what I’ll have for dinner while I’m eating breakfast.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Hell yeah. Food is like… The sole reason to live.” 

 

Hux snickers and shakes his head a bit.

 

“I forget to eat all the time, when I’m busy anyway.” 

 

“It shows.” Kylo murmurs. “You are one skinny guy.”

 

Hux pulls his coat closer around his body and chews on the inside of his cheek a bit. He doesn’t really know what to talk about with this guy- He can't help the lingering feeling that his every little behaviour is being analysed, and he doesn't approve of the scrutiny.

 

“It’s your physique though, I guess.” Kylo continues, idly tapping his hands on the wheel. “As a teenager you were gangly too, damn...”

 

Hux narrows his eyes a bit.

 

“Oh… I’ve seen pictures at the police station. You know since your brother is still officially a missing person. Brendol said there was no way to tell you two apart.” 

 

Hux smiles thinly and nods his head a bit. 

 

“Techie and I heard that a lot.” He admits. “People always asked who was who, until he started to grow out his hair at least.”

 

“Techie?” Kylo repeats.

 

“Oh, a nickname he’s always had. He was really into tinkering and messing with computers- Machines… It became a bit of an endearment I suppose.” 

 

“Do you miss him?” 

 

Hux nods, staring at the road ahead as if it is the most interesting thing in the world. They have descended from the large road along the coast, and they have gone deep into the forest, thick with morning-fog… Quiet and distant, looking like it may have existed in some twilight-zone between worlds. It’s the sort of environment that makes it easy to see things- Things that shouldn’t be real, not in this world anyway. Still, Hux knows what he saw that night. He just regrets, always will regret, that he can’t remember what came after… Not for another 5 weeks after even… All gone, the first time he had a blank in his memory. Since then, it’s chased him- And now that same fucking blank has brought him back here… But why, for fuck’s sake?

 

“Oh yes.” He murmurs softly. “I miss him so much.”

 

\---

 

He is so glad to have his hands around a cup of coffee, and he realizes just how much he needed it by the time he folds his fingers around the mug. They have stopped at the small diner just at the edge of town. It’s quiet and the radio plays a soft tune to fill the emptiness. There is a light crackle in the radio-station… And that brings back memories, the bad reception in these areas that always makes for that extra layer of grainy static in the air. Outside the sky is grey and moody, no rain but a dense fog that brings a chilly wet layer to the sky, leaving droplets on everything. It only makes the diner feel warmer inside, the thick wooden walls make it homey and the snug comfort of the corner-booth is almost as good as sitting on the couch with a blanket to cover yourself. 

 

“Alrighty, breakfast is served.” Kylo sighs contently as he sits down with the two trays he just picked up at the counter. 

 

He looks like he is in an increasingly better mood the longer they sit together. He is smiling, and he looks utterly charming when he does, Hux is amused to see him- It is refreshing, that someone in his company is in a good mood for once. He looks down and smiles at the colourful breakfast sitting in front of him. A bowl of fruit, fresh fluffy pancakes with a small set of potential toppings, toast and jam, a boiled egg and two sausages. It’s a big meal, Hux has to admit, but he is so hungry that he is ravenous and very confident that he will clear the entire tray without trouble. 

 

“The coffee is free refills by the way, and if you want you can have my egg- I’m more of a scrambled eggs kinda guy.” Kylo says, gesturing at his identical meal. 

 

“I might take you up on that… I’ll get back on that when I am done.” 

 

Kylo hums and happily digs into his own meal, the light clang and ticking of their cutlery is the only sound in the diner. There is only one person working the counter and she is just lounging back, staying near the back but keeping an eye on them in case they need something. Hux feels oddly comfortable, and that is for the first time since this hell started. Kylo doesn’t pry much, he sometimes asks Hux a question or two, but mostly to keep a conversation going. It at least loosens him enough to talk more freely, but he watches his step. At least Kylo makes it nicer to be back home… For now that is, that illusion might last until he gets home- Facing his dad again. 

 

“So… I was thinking-” Kylo starts, half his mouth full of fruit. “Since your planning is terrible anyway...”

 

Hux snorts a bit. 

 

“Yeah, I know… You’re super together usually and stuff.”

 

Kylo waves his hand. 

 

“But, in the potential case that your dad doesn’t have the means to house you for the time being, I have a convertible couch.”

 

“That is real nice of you.” Hux says then. “But what makes you think my father does not want to house me?”

 

“I did not say want- I said have the means to...” Kylo chuckles. “But yeah, Brendol is not exactly known to be hospitable among townsfolk- He keeps to himself after...”

 

“You can say it, you know.” Hux huffs. “Since Techie disappeared.” 

 

“Yeah, well, most people do not say ‘disappeared’ anymore.”

 

Hux scoffed.

 

“What do they want to call it then?” He snuffs. “A runaway?”

 

“Murder.” Kylo says.

 

Hux stiffens and casts his head down, feeling his face go cold at the idea.

 

“He wasn’t murdered.” Hux insists, looking down at his plate. 

 

Kylo smiles thinly and shrugs a bit. 

 

“Whatever happened to him, he is gone, and 15 years later nobody still knows what happened to the kid. Nobody… Nothing… That means no closure, and it probably won’t ever come.” 

 

Hux nods, realizing full well that it is the same for him- Maybe worse yet, because he has lost so much time of that fateful moment, he has blacked out, forgotten, his first memory after following after his entranced twin is from five weeks later… He remembers nothing from whatever has happened in between- And he has never dug for it either… He tried to remember the important things, anything that might relate to his sibling, but no… There was nothing he remembered. 

 

“Do you think he’s still alive?” Kylo asks, poking his fork around the fruit-bowl a bit. 

 

“I don’t want to speculate.” Hux answers weakly. “Because the truth is… I really don’t know either way.”

 

“What does your gut tell you?”

 

Hux stays silent and stares down at his coffee, swallowing harshly and shaking his head. 

 

“Sorry.” 

 

Kylo pats his hand. 

 

“That was rude to ask.” 

 

“It was.” Hux says weakly. “But I’ve been told I am a rude guy myself… So I suppose I have no right to complain. I just don’t really want to talk about it, I’m not ready.”

 

“Fair enough.” Kylo concedes. “But I meant what I offered, if you need a place to stay around here, just come knocking.”

 

Hux smiles and lets out a soft sigh, finally raising his head again. 

 

“And where do I go for knocking?” 

 

Kylo sits up and digs up his wallet, taking out a card and handing it over to Hux.

 

“Everything you need.” He says, before turning it over and scribbling something on the white space of his card. “And my personal number too… In case you need it.” 

 

Hux takes it between his fingers and smiles. 

 

“Kylo Ren, psychologist and mental health consultant.” He reads out loud. “I’d just have printed shrink on it if I were you, much more understandable for the folk around here.” 

 

He chuckles and lays it next to his phone, returning to his breakfast. 

 

“And you? No card for the good doctor Hux?” 

 

Hux laughs a bit and shakes his head, pointing his fork at Kylo. 

 

“I do have one, but it only contains my work-related information. It would be useless to hand out anyway.” 

 

“You seem like the kind of guy that never has to give out his phone number anyway- The private one that is.” Kylo says then.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hux scoffs.

 

“Exactly that. You are very closed- Private… You don’t strike me as the sort to hand out your phone-number after a nice chat at the bar.” 

 

“Stop shrinking me.” Hux huffs, annoyed. 

 

“I am not!” Kylo laughs. “Any backroad farm-hick can see that on you. You have that uninviting scowl going on, not to mention that you barely make eye-contact.”

 

Hux feels his lip curl up in irritation. He has never been good at hiding it when someone gets on his nerves- And he barely manages to smooth out his features before he gives Kylo a long and solid look, leaning over a bit. 

 

“How about you go and tell me some more about yourself instead, Nietzsche. I’m starting to feel like there is a whole lot about me on the table and very little about you.” 

 

Kylo shrugs. 

 

“Fair enough.” He says then, leaning back a bit. “What do you want to know, Dr. Dreamy?” 

 

There is a grin on Kylo’s face when he adds the name, knowing full well that Hux wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment- A petty challenge for further bickering, but Hux is not tempted to engage… Instead he calmly drinks down his coffee and cuts into his pancakes.

 

“How about the story of how you got all the way from London to out here?”

 

“I came here with my mom. She moved to here about a year after you must have left- When they started to set up the preservation project around here for the whole eco-thing… I can’t say I ever really looked into it much, given that I don’t give two fucks about what she does for a living.” 

 

Hux smiles a bit at the blunt honesty. 

 

“I was still in high school, and everybody here just looked at me like I was a zoo animal. I was this London-kid from the big city… My accent was weird for all of them and I had no clue about their games and lives. It was hell to be honest. I was so pissed at my mom.” 

 

“I can imagine.”

 

“Anyway, I did well enough here. Mom was never really home so I spent a lot of time in the library… The old guy that worked there, Snoke- He was nice… I studied a lot to do psychology in college.”

 

“Snoke? Ugh, I never got along with that old twat.”

 

Kylo snorts.

 

“Why?”

 

“He was always rude to my brother. He kept talking to him like he was a simple mind and when Techie asked me to get him to stop he said he didn’t want us to make fun of him and kicked Techie out- I was only allowed in when Techie wasn’t with me. It’s like he hated him, really hated him.”

 

“Huh… He’s always been pretty nice to me. Anyway, mom left again to be the good samaritan elsewhere, but I was in college and I didn’t want to pack up and leave again. So I stayed here, and when I came out of school I could get right to work around here.” 

 

Hux hums and ticks his fork against his egg, cracking the shell so he can peel it. 

 

“Didn’t you rather want to go back to England? To get a job there rather than just be stuck here?”

 

“Well, think about it… Getting a job around there is hard enough already- Let alone in the psychological field. Here I had assurance of a job, it’s beautiful around here- I like the wild, nature… The quiet too. It is my home by now, I don’t think I’m cut out for city-life and that metropolitan mindset… Not anymore at least.”

 

Hux shrugs a bit, indicating that he can imagine what Kylo means. He himself has the opposite by now. It feels dead here, too remote and removed from everything. There are only a few people here, a small population for such a big area, spread out over a few clusters- The rest is forest, mountains or sea. It’s outback and wilderness- Nothing like the concept of having your next-door neighbours separated from you with only a 10 inch wall. Nothing like being able to walk out with cravings and just picking up a steaming pizza in the deep middle of the night- Or a whole box of donuts in the early morning when you wake up in a bad mood. No, here the next best supermarket is usually about a mile away if you are lucky, and diners or restaurants are scattered- Closing early… Not made for midnight-snacks or fast-paced impulses. 

 

“But what do you do without a Domino’s though?” Hux mumbles. “I mean, what if it’s 3 AM, and you’re drunk as hell, and you need a pizza- Really need a pizza I mean?”

 

“Sounds like you have weird nights.”

 

“Oh come on, everyone gets there every once in a while.”

 

“Well, that is not entirely true- But I know what you mean, but my personal beer-buster is garlic bread- I always have some in the freezer.”

 

“Ugh, garlic bread on beer-breath- You must be a delight in the morning then.”

 

“Ah well, nobody around to smell that.” Kylo laughs. “Last bit of fun I had was with a tourist- Like 2 years ago if you can believe it, only had 2 weeks before he went home again.”

 

“He?” Hux repeats, intrigued. 

 

“Yeah, he. Does that squick you?” Kylo huffs, looking like he is ready to throw down if he has to.

 

Hux snickers a bit.

 

“That would be very hypocritical of me, given that I am guilty of much the same.” 

 

Kylo sits back, a grin coming on his face as he looks Hux over- As if he wants to really get a good look now that he has heard it.

 

“Huh… Usually my gaydar is quite sharp- But I had not marked you for the homosexual sort.” 

 

“I’m not.” Hux says, shrugging a bit as he takes a bite out of his egg. “I’m bisexual.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“My dominant liking is towards men though.” Hux continues, not really caring about who he has to tell about it anymore. 

 

He is not prudish, or embarrassed- Besides Kylo is gay himself… So he has very little to fear from him when it comes to judgement. More importantly, he doesn’t care- Not in the least.

 

“But either end has been on a dry spell for the last five years.” He laughs then. “Married to the job.”

 

Kylo hums and stands, grabbing their mugs in a silent offer to fill them up again. 

 

“Maybe we can go clubbing together sometime.” 

 

Hux scrunches up his nose.

 

“Dear God no.” He says, shaking his head. “I hate clubs, not to mention the people that go there.” 

 

“You sound like an old man.” 

 

“I am an old man.” Hux counters, pointing his spoon at Kylo. “Look at me, I sit here, all cosied up with my soft-boiled egg and my slightly chilled coffee- The only thing that could complete the picture is the morning newspaper so I can do the crosswords.”

 

Kylo smirks and leans in.

 

“Should I get you one, grandpa?”

 

“Nah, I’m good. Let me just finish up my food and then we should get going again.” 

 

Kylo nods and sits back down, folding his hands together as he looks out the window. There’s a pleasant calm around them once again. It’s quiet, and outside it has started to rain, the patter of it just audible over that crackling radio. Hux finishes up his meal in silence and walks with Kylo again as they get back on the road. Hux realizes he forgot to call the tow-company, but that’s fine, he will call when he gets to his father’s house. Kylo taps his hands on the steering wheel when they are both settled. It’s a little after 10 by now, and Hux wonders if Kylo should be at work by now, if he’s holding him up, but if that’s so then Kylo does not seem to mind.

 

“I start at 1.” Kylo says. “Wednesday is always quiet.”

 

Hux snaps his head up and stares Kylo in the face, unable to hide the surprise on it.

 

“Your face betrays a lot of your thoughts.” Kylo explains. “I could see you looking at the clock- Fidgeting… So don’t worry, I still have plenty of time.” 

 

He pulls out of the parking-lot and looks at Hux with a small smile.

 

“Straight to your dad’s?” 

 

“Please.” Hux says, nodding a bit. 

 

They return to the vast road that seems to go on forever, and for a long while longer it’s still just trees and rocks that surround them, only occasionally there is a peek of a house or two, the more isolated ones that don’t really belong with the rest of town. It takes them 20 more minutes to see the actual town in the distance. It’s not much, the place is far from impressive, but it is still a community- And it has everything one really needs to get by. Hux recognizes so much of it. He thought he wouldn’t remember it all so clearly, but he does. He could even easily find the way home if Kylo dropped him off here. 

 

“It hasn’t changed a bit.” He mumbles to himself. “Fifteen years and it still looks the same.” 

 

“Well, this part does, up to the coast on the North side there is a whole tourist thing going now… But we hardly notice those- Especially at this time of the year. They have everything they want at their park so they don’t come here much.”

 

“Tourists? Whatever would someone want here?” 

 

“Nature, wild beauty, a sea full of marine life, quiet and endless forests- A touch of mystery with the idea of UFOs.”

 

“UFOs? Really?” 

 

“Unexplained lights and sounds- People always go for aliens.” 

 

“What a load of bullshit.” 

 

Kylo shrugs and turns left, taking them just around the main centre of their little town and off to the quieter houses at the edge of town.

 

“Well, what happened with your twin is still officially unexplained- And… Despite the fact that they laughed at you- You are not the only one that saw those lights.”

 

“Others saw them?”

 

“Yeah. I’ve had a few in session that told me they saw them, but at a far bigger distance than you ever described- And often fleeting, a glimpse… But they saw them all the same.”

 

Hux hums, feeling a mild stab in his chest. He was ridiculed for what he said, like he’d gone insane- And now he has to hear that at least a solid handful of people saw those things- Whatever they are. They exist, and he has always been right, so they laughed at them for something that might have been essential in finding Techie back. 

 

“I even saw them once.” Kylo says then. “Up near the ridge of old Palpatine’s lodge. Just a small glimpse in the distance before they disappeared between the treetops. Nothing like I ever saw before- It was kind of creepy even.” 

 

Hux sighs and starts picking at his fingernails a bit. 

 

“Imagine seeing them up so close that they’re blinding you… All alone on the road at night.”

 

Kylo snorts.

 

“I’d have run, fast as my legs can carry me.” 

 

“Me too… If I’d been alone.”

 

“Why didn’t your brother get scared?”

 

Hux lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

 

“He heard something- Honestly though, I’d never seen him act so weird. Like he was hypnotized by those things.”

 

“He wasn’t even the least bit apprehensive?”

 

“No, he started climbing towards them, almost eager to get there… And he’s usually scared of literally anything that’s out of place.” 

 

He pauses.

 

“Or well… He was anyway.”

 

“I’m sorry… ” Kylo says, softly. “I wish that we all knew what happened that night- For the sake of so many minds...”

 

“Minds?” Hux repeats hollowly. “I don’t care for peace of mind, Ren.” 

 

He laughs without mirth, then shakes his head. 

 

“I care about bringing him home, to what he knows and loves- In whatever state that is. Techie is my only brother- He is my twin, the only one he ever trusted in was me. He only ever talked freely to me, he needed me so much, for everything.” 

 

He turns his head to stare out of the window.

 

“And wherever he is now, alive or dead… I know he wants to be with me again, and I want to give him that- And I just can’t. That is what hurts, that and only that.”

 

Kylo softly sighs.

 

“Well… That was very honest of you. And I hope you will get that closure- In the most optimistic scenario possible.” 

 

“Thank you.”


	3. Estranged

The silence is comfortable, leaving them to stew in it as it starts to actually rain, it ticks against the windshield and casts the road ahead in a blurry sort of layer, shapes and blobs- All of them grey and odd- Sad almost. Kylo finally slows at the edge of a driveway, slowly turning his car onto it and rolling it out until they are halted near the front door. It is quiet, nothing moves or stirs behind the windows- But Hux is almost happy for that… For a moment to take it in. The rain streaks the image of the house he grew up in, as if the whole sight of it is weeping with a sort of misery. He feels a dread creep up his neck at the thought of being here. He doesn’t want to leave the car, not at the moment anyway. He knows what it looks like inside and part of him wants it to be all different. If it’s all the same, then how can he look at anything without seeing Techie there? It was their home…  _ Theirs.  _ Never apart, always together. 

 

But it is now, empty and without his brother and now- Now he will be expecting him to show up, like he always does- And he won’t. And everytime he doesn’t show up, Hux knows he will have to go through that wave of disappointment- A constant bitter taste- And then there is the wildcard to all of this. His dad… How will his dad react to him? Knowing the history he’s seen with his dad and anything remotely regarding difficult situations it is going to be… Strenuous. 

 

“You okay?” Kylo asks. 

 

“I...” Hux starts. “I am not sure, to be honest.” 

 

“You know… I love this car too- But you can’t stay in here forever. I got to go places too-”

 

Hux hums and puts his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths before he scrubs them down his face. 

 

“Best to bite the bullet.” He sighs. “Thank you so much, for the ride- And breakfast and basically everything.” 

 

Kylo smiles and pats Hux on the shoulder.

 

“It was good to meet you- Sure made an interesting start to my day. You just take care- It might be harder on you than you think… This whole thing.”

 

“I don’t doubt that it will be.” Hux answers, finally raising his head again and buttoning up his coat so he won’t catch the chill the second he steps out of the car. 

 

Kylo gets out with him and gives him his bag from the trunk, wishing him the best again before ducking back into the car before he can get too wet. Hux rushes to the cover of the front porch and waves at Kylo, who smiles before backing out of the driveway, the car disappearing down the road soon enough. Hux swallows compulsively and hitches his bag up his shoulder before ringing the doorbell, stepping back a bit so he has a safe distance from whatever version of his father comes stepping through that door. Turns out, it is no version at all- His father isn’t home, but the door is unlocked… He won’t be gone long then. 

 

Hux lingers a bit, trying to decide if he is better off waiting for his father. Yet, the cold is still merciless, the rain is still picking up and he decides that this is still officially his house too. He lives here, he is allowed to stay. He lets himself in before the resolve he has can crumble. He pushes against the door, still remembering how the screen-door behind it always used to cling at the bottom of the frame. It still does. His father always promised to fix it next year, the entire 30 years that Hux has been alive their father promised he would fix it. He pushes it inwards, kicking the rim a bit to unlodge it where it’s stuck. It smells familiar, that slightly musty scent from the carpet- The ever present heavy air that comes from the kitchen because their venting systems are crap.

 

It smells like home, in all its heavy and unhealthy glory. There is always something in the air here, always something more than just the atmosphere, it is their own bubble- Their home-bubble. Hux cannot help but smile at it, the familiarity. He takes off his shoes, leaving them at the door. The rack looks so empty without Techie’s five different shades of converse-sneakers. It just has his dad’s work-shoes on it now, and the rubber boots for when he goes hiking up the marshes. That means he’s out for drinking- He knows his father’s patterns. In the morning no less, things must have been rough indeed. He finally shrugs out of his coat as well and leaves it on the rack, shouldering his bag as he leaves the small front-room, opening the door to the living room. 

 

It’s glum in here, the curtains are still drawn and the TV is on, repeating the morning news in an annoying buzz of sound. Hux walks over to turn it off, much preferring the silence over that ever present humming and droning of static and voices. He sighs and looks around. Nothing’s really changed around here, it appears. It’s still the same collection of mismatched and bulky furniture, no coherent theme to be discovered. It looks a bit dank and sad- Which is exactly how Hux remembers it. Their house had never been homely- Their dad didn’t care for appearances. They never had people over here anyway and the furniture they had was cheap. Hux does notice that the things he and Techie added to the house are gone. There were never pictures of them to begin with, but things they made for their dad on Father’s day or had bought for the house are nowhere to be found. 

 

Hux can understand that. After all, Techie’d left their lives rather abruptly- And he hasn’t been the same since either. Now even more; he’s grown up, twice the age of when he last lived here. He has grown out of the phase where he played Magic the Gathering with his brother all day and memorized every strategy-guide. He no longer draws up the weirdest inventions and technical designs… He used to have a real knack for that. A bit of an obsession even- With military planes and stealth fighters. He wonders if he’d have done something with that if he hadn’t lost Techie. Since then he hasn’t drawn plans anymore- No more inventions. His mind had been too scattered to work on anything creative.

 

He sighs a bit and turns to his bedroom-door, wondering what state it will be in. He rests his hand on the doorknob and scratches behind his head. What will he say when his father gets back? ‘Hey dad, I know it’s been 15 years but here I am, randomly without any good reason. How’s life been since I left?’ Yeah… He needs to do better than that. He sighs and pushes the door inwards. It’s dark, the curtain is drawn and he can’t see a single thing. He clicks on the light, running on instinct- Knowing exactly where it used to be. The light blinks on and Hux feels his chest tightening for some reason. It’s all still exactly the same. 

 

The terrible carpet with its abhorrent black and white patterns is still right there. He’d already hated it as a kid, so a lot of his floor was usually covered with all sorts of stuff. That hasn’t changed, there is still a whole stack of plans spread around the corner where there is no furniture. His room isn’t big, most of his furniture is crammed into places where it can only just fit- Which is only for the better, as it leaves less of that carpet-disaster visible. It’s a bit dusty, but not as bad as Hux expected. It looks like his dad left everything as it was, but someone must have cleaned here- At least semi-regularly. He steps inside completely and sets his bag down on the bed. It has his favourite sheets on it, soft white ones with a jet-black stripe across the horizontal edge. 

 

He’s always loved how soft and comforting they feel- They allow him to burrow, cover himself and hide. He likes hiding. He used to curl up under all those blankets, making a tent he could read in during the later hours of the night. It is a fond memory, especially when he thinks back to even younger years when he and Techie fit under there together. He would read his brother stories about foxes, sometimes even just little segments of encyclopedias- His brother adored foxes. They could stay up for hours on end, just reading about foxes. Alone he would read about warmachines, about the evolutions of the plane- Or the masterful design of weaponry and rockets. They intrigued him, mechanisms and devices. So many small things together could make such differences- All working together in utter harmony, one thing out of place and the system stops.

 

“It’s like it all shouldn’t be here anymore.” 

 

He rubs his hands together, making a small circle around the room. He pushes the curtain open, looking outside. The wind has streaked across the windows and he can’t see past the rain. There is forest out there, he knows. The wild pines atop large mountains and hills. Now though, all he sees is dark grey, blending with spots of darker green and the bland nothingness of the sky. He sighs and turns away. He unbuttons his shirt and slowly lets it slip down his arms. He’s still cold, the night in the car has seeped into his body. He sighs and digs up the cable to charge his phone, eventually finding it packed into one of the side-pockets of his bag. He plugs it in and attaches his phone- Hoping it’ll be charged by the time he’s showered. 

 

He leaves his shirt and pants on the edge of his bed, rummaging his bag for something else to wear. He finds a clean pair of pants, jeans this time. That makes sense, slacks would only end up wrinkled in a bag like this. He hasn’t really brought anything warm though, just a pullover he likes to wear and a black t-shirt, neither of which are made for temperatures around freezing. He’ll just borrow something from his dad’s closet, it’ll be fine. He hitches up his underwear and turns to go take a bath, before he realizes that he should address his event. He writes them down, everything he remembers. He digs into his bag, taking out the notebook. It’s childish. He started his notes after what happened to Techie, he had a notebook back then, one Techie gave him for his birthday. He hadn’t used it before that- He couldn’t find a good use for it.

 

It’s a small booklet, mostly black with a brass label on the front, it looks old-fashioned and fancy, the crest has a fox on it. It’s fun, but it screams fake. The ‘brass’ crest is flaking, and the glue has let off at least three times already, but it’s Techie’s- It’s his. He needs it, a tether to connect to. He sighs and opens it, clicking open the pen he keeps in the spiral of the booklet. He notes what he remembers, the time he has lost and the things he felt and noticed when he became aware again. He does so with grinding teeth. What’s wrong with him? Why can’t he just keep it together? He puts the booklet with the other clothes on the bed and he stands, hoping that he won’t be making notes anytime soon again. He huffs and grabs the clean jeans, heading for the bathroom. He’d always been lucky sleeping across from the bathroom. He’d usually wake up and hop right over to that door across from his room, sneaking into the shower before his dad or brother could. 

 

He doesn’t linger much. The house is cold- Especially with only underwear on. He enters the bathroom and jerks the door shut behind him, flipping the old switch-lock in place. The light blinks on, it’s always been automated and that hasn’t changed either. The glow is weak at first, the lamp needs a moment to warm up. Hux doesn’t wait for it, shuffling through the half-dark before he dumps his clean clothes on the side of the sink. The old yellow light slowly captures the room, reflecting off the white tiles, even though the rims of them are blackened and dirty. The shower-curtain is still the same one that their dad put up when they were kids, covered in colourful dinosaurs marching across the tarp with their silly faces. It’s incidentally also the only thing that remains from the fact that they used to live here. Bath products and toys they used to have are gone. Not even the fox-towel Techie had adored remained. 

 

Hux instead goes through the drawer with bath products to see if he can find something decent to shower with, finding the generic stuff his father always uses- Still the same brand from 15 years ago. He doesn’t fancy smelling like his dad though, so he’s at least a bit relieved when he finds a gift-pack of other bathing products in the drawer under it, stashed away at the back. Looks like it was a present from someone his dad cares about- If not he would’ve chucked out the whole thing because he wouldn’t ever use it to begin with. It’s supposed to smell of mint and cedar- A touch of herbs too- Far too frilly and fresh for his father’s tastes, but Hux finds the idea appealing. He frees the bottles from their packaging and grabs a towel. 

 

He tosses his underwear over to the rest of his clothes and turns on the shower, hissing when he remembers that it takes some time to heat up. The water is ice-cold for the first minute, but it slowly warms up when he waits. He keeps his hand on the old valve though, knowing that there is a very fine line between blistering hot and icy cold when it comes to this thing. The pipes groan a lot, squeaking and screeching when water moves through. Hux is used to the near-silence of his own apartment. It’s modern and quiet, which makes this house noisy- Almost annoying, even. It takes him some tweaking and cursing before he finally finds a temperature that doesn’t redden his skin with its heat or leave his feet feeling like they’re on ice. He leans into the spray when it’s comfortable at last and smooths back his hair, staring at the blue tiles that go up to about shoulder-height. They are such a hideous sort of blue- Green-like and too bright. They look terribly out of place… Not to mention that they clash even worse with their dinosaur curtain.

 

He washes fast, deciding that he doesn’t want to be met by his father while he’s still dripping and naked- He’d hope for a more normal reunion…As normal as could be hoped for anyway. When he’s all washed and the cold has left his body he turns the valves off and grabs his towel. He leaves everything where he found it, drying his hair with one hand while he puts things away with the other. Once everything is cleaned up he pulls on his clean jeans and zips them up. He opens the air-vent to let out the steam and leaves the bathroom, pulling up socks. He walks to the storage-room his father keeps and sifts through the old clothes his father stored there. His own old clothes are there too, but they’re far too small on him now. He was even narrower and a solid few inches shorter too. He wouldn’t fit in them. Instead he grabs an old hoodie his father once bought- In days that he was more supportive of them he bought a sweater of their riverdance squad. 

 

Hux smiles a bit when he sees it, a deep forest green with silver trims, a touch of sweet Ireland where their heritage lies. He pulls it over his head. It’s too long and loose around the midsection, he doesn’t have his dad’s belly after all. It’s comfortable though, the baggy and soft fleece with warm and long sleeves. It’s comfortable, it feels oddly safe. He tries smoothing out his hair, but without pomade a fringe just drops over his forehead every time he pulls it back. He has soft hair when he doesn’t use product, it’s slightly springy, unruly. He doesn’t like unruly, it gets in the way and it’s terribly unpredictable- A hassle if he’s ever heard of one. He smiles and pulls the sleeves up a bit, leaving the storage-room with a soft sigh, pulling the door behind him. 

 

“Hold it there. Don’t move.” A brisk voice breaks the silence. “Try anything clever and there’s not just red on your head but everywhere.” 

 

Hux stiffens a bit as he hears the safety of a gun come off.

 

“Wait.” He says.

 

“Turn around, little snooper.”

 

Hux sighs and slowly turns, trying to avoid his father’s face at first, but he still sees it when his eyes look past the barrel of the gun. He’s gotten so old, his own red hair is almost grey now- A bald spot forming on top of his head that he tries to cover with a few stray hairs from the sides. His face looks puffy, angry, but Hux sees it change- A hint of confusion, recognition, and then… Shock. The gun lowers and his dad steps back, raising his head and giving him a look- Hux isn’t sure exactly what’s in that look… But it makes him uneasy.

 

“Armitage.” He says, almost reverently- As if the name is a curse. “What are you  _ doing  _ here?” 

 

“I- I heard you were retiring.” Hux mumbles, fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweater. “I decided it would be the right time to look you up again… To come home.”

 

His father looks him up and down, tucking his gun back into its holster. He sniffs his nose a bit and shakes his head, cursing softly. 

 

“You could have called ahead, kid.” He says accusingly. “Instead of barging in like this. How did you even get in?”

 

“You- You didn’t lock the door dad.” Hux replies, feeling his heartbeat elevating. “I… I’m sorry. It was a whim, you know I’ve never been good at those- It’s not the best idea, in hindsight. But I’m here.”

 

“When are you leaving?” Brendol interrupts him. 

 

“I haven’t made plans yet.” 

 

His father turns away from him. He’s gotten fatter too, Hux notices- Grosser. He’s let himself go a bit. Hux can understand- With nobody to look good for, to present himself for, why would his dad care about keeping up appearances? He’d just expected his pride would mean more. 

 

“You can just stay in your old bedroom, I suppose.” Brendol admonishes in the end. “But I don’t have time to hang out or anything. I’m a busy man.”

 

“I hadn’t expected you to.” Hux immediately says. “It’s fine.” 

 

Brendol nods, taking off his holster-belt and putting his badge with it when he puts the items away in the drawer where he always keeps them. 

 

“You look a lot like your mum, all grown up.”

 

“Really?” 

 

Brendol nods and walks past Hux, heading into the kitchen. Hux trails after him, staying mostly quiet as he takes in the image of his father. He avoids looking at him, as if looking at Hux is a bad thing. He is slumped and dragging his feet- He looks tired. His breath is heavy, as if it troubles him to walk even these small distances. 

 

“You fed the cat yet?”

 

“You have a cat?” Hux snorts incredulously. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendol sighs. “Don’t have much with the little pests, but this one showed up on you kids’ birthday one year- Tiny bright red looking thing… Couldn’t turn away from her.” 

 

He grabs an opened bag of kitty-kibbles from a kitchen cupboard and fills up the tiny bowl next to the fridge. 

 

“She’s usually outside though, skulking around and doing whatever it is the little missy likes to do.”

 

Hux smirks a bit.

 

“What did you call her?”

 

“Millicent- Because your brother would… When he tried to say Maleficent- It was the first thing on my mind.” 

 

Brendol looks a bit embarrassed, flustered almost- As if he doesn’t want to admit he has a heart for his adopted pet. Hux hums softly and looks at the bowl by the fridge. It’s not even a generic one- Stainless steel like you can buy at any given petstore. No this one is ceramic with blue-painted ridges and what looks like a painted design under all the kibbles. 

 

“She doesn’t like me much.” Brendol continues. “Usually walks up to me and bumps her head on my leg two times before she runs off to her den. She loves sleeping in your old sleeping bag.”

 

“So you’re a cat-daddy now.” Hux snickers. 

 

Brendol gives him a bit of a look before he opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of beer, then hesitantly reaches for a second one. 

 

“You drink, lad?” 

 

Hux frowns, but then it dawns on him he left his father’s care before he was even allowed to drink to begin with. He keeps forgetting how long it truly has been since he’s set foot in this household- Half his lifetime ago… Too long.

 

“Not this early in the day, no.” He answers, perching himself on one of the stools on the other side of the kitchen-island. “And when I do I usually don’t reach for beers.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of them ‘raspberry vodka and cocktails’ faggots.” Brendol scoffs. 

 

Hux purses his lips a bit at the blatant comment and decides that addressing those types of conversation might have to wait- At least his dad is talking to him… He would like to keep it that way for now at least.

 

“No...” He sighs. “More of a scotch and soda sort… Or a neat whiskey when the label is good.”

 

“True posh boy  now, I see.” Brendol hums, cracking open his beer and leaning on the island on the other side. “You even talk like those Brits.”

 

“It’s been 15 years dad, I basically grew up there. Be glad I don’t sound like I came from here- They wouldn’t have taken me seriously at my job.”

 

“Oh, you got a job?”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

 

“Oh calm your tits, kid.” Brendol huffs, opening a drawer and grabbing a handful of crackers from a box he finds in it, stuffing half of them in his face right away. “When I put you on the plane you were hardly suitable for society- Let alone a job. Sloane set you straight though, good to know.” 

 

“She was stern, but never unkind.” Hux admits. “I don’t know why you sent me to live with her in the first place, but it was good for me. I’m a head physician now.”

 

“A doctor?” Brendol hums. “That’s some irony if I ever saw it.”

 

“Why?” Hux snaps. “Sloane always insisted I had a good eye for it.” 

 

“Well with how much of a hassle you two always were when it came to doctors back then...” 

 

Brendol shrugs and tips back his bottle of beer, stuffing the rest of the crackers in his mouth right after.

 

“You ate yet?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Hux murmurs. “But I’d like to use the phone.”

 

“Go ahead… I’ll be in the study, preparing for when I leave the force in a week- So let me be, alright kid?” 

 

“Of course.” Hux concedes. “I’ll be quiet.” 

 

“If you’re leaving the house- There is a spare key under the floorboards of the patio.” 

 

Hux nods and waits for his father to leave, chewing on his cheek a bit. Well- That was awkward… But it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared it would be. He hadn’t been yelled at, or kicked out. He could’ve had much worse. He’s surprised however that his father has become so… So… Gross. He must not have guests over a lot, or at all. Otherwise he’d have made at least an attempt to look dignified. But now he has just gotten fat, he chews and drinks like a pig and his house is poorly cleaned. Hux gets the inkling that someone in town is cleaning for him every now and then, because some spaces are relatively spotless, whereas the ones that are frequently used by Brendol are sticky and greasy with spilled drink and crumbs. 

 

When he hears the door to the study slam shut he picks up the phone and calls the nearest towing-company. He explains to them where he left his car and that he leased it from some company. There’s some discussion whether or not Hux is trying to prank them, but after he’s gotten angry enough for them to take it seriously they apologize so profusely that they’ll tow his rental back to the lease company for free. At least that’s handled then, one less thing to worry about. He walks back to his old bedroom and picks up his phone, glad that it’s charged by the time he takes it off the cord. When he enters his pin and connects back to the internet he waits for the apps to catch up, he has messages- A lot of them. Sloane has been calling him, at least 5 times a day- Not including the multitude of texts that he has in his inbox.  

 

He rubs his hand over his face and decides to call her, trying to wrap his head around the time-zone difference first. Being 10 hours ahead he realizes that it will be the middle of the night now for Sloane, so he decides to handle it by texting her instead. She has been texting him to call her, if he’s okay- Where the fuck he is, apparently she went by his apartment to bring by some of the stuff in his locker and check on him- Realizing he was out. Over the course of the last day her texts have become more urgent, clearly showing that she’s worried for him. Hux sighs and props his chin on his knees, holding his phone out in front of him as he starts to type her a reply. 

 

_ “Hey, don’t worry about me, I decided to leave town for a couple of days to collect my thoughts- My phone died on my way there and I’ve honestly forgotten to charge it since I arrived. Sorry for that, I’m fine anyway. I’ll come pick up that locker-stuff when I get home again.” _

 

He grimaces a bit, knowing that some of it just looks like badly covered lies- They are anyway. He doesn’t have anything better to tell her though, so when she calls the next time he has no doubt it will be a strained conversation. He’s glad for the fact that it can wait. Instead he empties his bag on the bed, trying to get an overview of everything he brought along, so he knows what he needs to supply for himself. He has his wallet with him, all his cards and important papers are in there, but he is low on cash- Local money anyway. He has some 15 pounds in notes, but that won’t do him any good here. He isn’t worried though, he can just withdraw cash when he goes into town. 

 

He at least knows he packed his phone and charger, but he appears to have neglected to bring his laptop. That’s a bummer, he uses that thing a lot- He’s a curious guy and he’d hoped to dig up the credentials of Kylo Ren, making sure he was the nice guy he made himself out to be. He’ll find some time to get on his dad’s laptop later then, no problem- He makes things work and this time will be no different. He’ll buy a new laptop if he has to. It’s more important that he has the basics with him. He does- For the most part. He has at least another 3 sets of briefs with him, and 3 pairs of socks- Even a pull-over and a t-shirt like he’d noticed earlier. The clothes he travelled in will be fine if he washes them again, they’re still clean but they’re crumpled and smell a bit sweaty. He even has a pair of loose shorts for sleeping in with him.

 

However, there is one big issue with what he cannot find in his bag. Risperidone… He doesn’t have any spare medication with him. With how empty the bottle in his coat-pocket feels he doubts he’ll have enough to get to the end of the week. He needs to find a way to get his prescription refilled around here instead. That isn’t going to be as easy as it sounds, he realizes. On such short notice he’d need to get a signature from the one that prescribed them in the first place. Maz Kanata was his doctor back in the day, and she put him on the drugs after he’d been evaluated by her- Saying he might have the same bipolar disorder his mom apparently had… Dormant but triggered when Techie disappeared. Hux had no idea if she still even worked around here. 

 

He puts away his bag behind his bed and leaves his spare clothes on the desk. It’s funny how his dad hasn’t touched even the most useless things in this room since he left. The desk still has some notes on it that he was filling out for his return to the Academy that year- Books he needed to buy and subjects he wanted to put more focus on. They are still scattered over the painted black surface. His little array of model planes and rockets is still in perfect order, chronologically arranged. The set of his favourite books that he consulted a lot is still stacked in the far right corner- His notebooks full of inventions and notes from his more private studies are still upright, clamped between the two bookrests that he’d once gotten from an uncle of his, they’re heavy blocks, made from repurposed ammunition that used to go into artillery-guns. 

 

The box of Magic: the Gathering cards is still on the shelf above his desk, crammed into the space between the wall in the window, the whole shelf dedicated to the game. His cards are all in the box, a cool collector’s edition tin that he’d bought online and paid a fuckton of money for because he’d forgotten about shipping taxes. Its place on the shelf is centred between all the strategy-guides and lore books he has. Some he bought himself over the years, some were presents- And some were pages he printed from the internet, tucked into binders for later reading. He smiles a bit, just seeing some of those books is enough to remind him of what’s in them- After all these years he still remembers it so well. That game had been everything to him and Techie, and after his brother had disappeared Hux’d lost his love for it. He wouldn’t take the cards with him to England despite how much he adored the game- Playing when his brother wouldn’t ever play again felt like a forbidden act, so he’d abandoned them- His dear cards that he’d spent years collecting, crafting them into perfect decks.

 

Hux turns away from the desk and lets his gaze slip over the double bookcase against the wall that sits opposite his bed. One of them has some dents and bumps in it- It’s right behind the door after all. Hux’d always been careful with how he interacts with his room, but Techie had been less refined. He’d slam it open in excitement or because he’d tripped over his shoes again. His dad would sometimes throw it open when he was angry with their noise- Or when he was simply angry with Hux… All in all, his poor bookcase has suffered a bit over the years, and it shows.  The red varnish is chipped, and there's one section where the wood was torn out completely and covered with a similar red to disguise the damage.

 

Most of the shelves are lined with books. Novels, history books, technical reference books, visual references; a bit of everything, really. However, some shelves are home to the trinkets and objects he’d collected over the years, most of them related to his obsession with machines- But some of them were of a more personal value. On one shelf he even has a small TV. It’s nice and flat, not too big, making it a perfect fit for the space it sits in, a DVD player crammed into the corner for watching movies with his brother. He remembers countless rainy evenings, the both of them huddled under Hux’s comforter like it was a tent, gnawing down on salted popcorn and watching all sorts of movies together until they were too tired to keep their eyes open. Those were the days. 

 

He leaves his room for a moment, keeping his eyes cast down on the floor as he takes a few deep breaths. The world is starting to blur together and rush by him. There’s a memory in literally everything he sees- A mix of things that haven’t changed at all and things that have changed so much he barely recognizes them. He feels queasy from it, and he wonders how much sleep he’d had during his episode. Did he sleep on the plane and wake back up in his dissociative state? Was the sleep he got in the car his only rest? And how long had that even been to begin with? He doesn’t have the slightest idea, and it worries him. He can’t adjust his schedules and do what’s best for him if he doesn’t even know what he’s been up to. At least he ate when he was with Kylo, and he showered to regulated his body-temperature- At least he took his meds- But the rest is one big blur.

 

He waits for the world to stop rushing, breathing in and out slowly until sounds are clear again and his sight is crisp. He raises his head and walks back to the living-room, skulking around a bit until he decides that this is driving him nuts. He has to go out, he has to be away from all of this- He has to… Just not be here for a bit… He has to… He shakes his head and grips his hands around the backrest of the couch, huffing out a breath again. He can’t keep doing that, he can’t keep up with the erratic spirals, he’s going to push himself over some edge at some point. 

 

“Armitage, hey.” 

 

He lifts his head and looks to the side, meeting his father’s gaze from where he stands in the doorway of his study. 

 

“I figured, since it’s almost noon, would you mind hopping downtown to the diner and pick up some stuff for lunch? I don’t have much in the fridge.” 

 

Hux slowly nods, standing up straight and pushing his hair aside. 

 

“Better yet, go to the convenience store and get yourself some stuff you might need while you stay here- I threw almost everything you kids used around the house out about 5 years ago.”

 

“Sure.” 

 

“Bring back three chicken parmesan bagels for me would you, and tell them to crisp up those onions.” 

 

Brendol turns away and almost closes the door to the study again before he turns. 

 

“You have a license kid?”

 

“Uh, y- For what?” 

 

“A car, smartass.” Brendol huffs. “Whatever fucking else?”

 

Hux narrows his eyes a bit at him and sucks in his cheek, refraining from snapping back at him. How is he supposed to guess what his dad’s talking about when he brings it up without context? He shrugs a bit and nods.

 

“Yeah, I can drive.”

 

“Good.” Brendol grumbles. “Take the car, I don’t want to be waiting for you for 2 hours.” 

 

He makes a face then.

 

“Or have you forgotten the way downtown since you left?” 

 

It’s almost accusing. As if Hux is the one that decided to leave, rather than being shipped off to go live in London. He purses his lips and cocks his head a bit, crossing his arms. He looks petulant, he realizes belatedly, so he drops his shoulders a bit. 

 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

 

“Alright, bring the car back gassed up- And remember, chicken parmesan bagels- Crisped onions.”

 

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Hux huffs, scratching his neck. 

 

His dad half-heartedly waves his hand at him and shuts the door to the study again. Hux rolls his eyes  and returns to his bedroom to grab his wallet. His father is still the same weird guy. He’s blunt and doesn’t hide that he isn’t glad to have Hux home, but he doesn’t kick him to the curb either- Tries in his own way to sort of welcome him. He still seems to insist on making sure that Hux doesn’t feel too comfortable around here though. Hux shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks to the front door, trying to make a mental list of everything he’s going to need when he’s at the store. The diner will be right next door from it so that makes it an easy trip. He grabs his coat from the rack and slips back into his shoes before he takes the car-keys from the little hook next to the front door. He doesn’t even think about it, he knows they’ll be there… 

 

He smiles thinly, as a child he and Techie always begged their father to let them drive in the car, even just a bit. It’s a fancy old thing, a Jaguar from an older generation before they got so expensive that one needed to give up a kidney to afford one. When they turned 15 their father had finally caved and taken them to a quiet road in the forest. It wasn’t too impressive; he’d just let each of them drive along the road until they hit the cross-section, where they made a U-turn back again, but for them it was magical. Hux remembers feeling so fast and free even though he was going no more than 20 miles an hour.  Now when he gets into the car he can almost feel that rush again, the buzz of sitting in the seat for the first time, having to adjust the seat to reach the pedals and having his dad tell him what he should and shouldn't touch while driving . He’s alone this time though, and he has to adjust the seat the other way, too tall for its current position. 

 

He backs it out of the driveway and heads to the town, not driving too fast because the rain makes it hard to see where he’s going. Not to mention the fact that he does have some trouble finding the way to begin with. He remembers fragments of where he’s been before and where he used to bike a lot, but some crossroads look unfamiliar and strange, and he’s glad that he can just make out the signs when he gets close enough. By the time that he reaches the diner it’s lunch-hour, and it shows. There’s more than one person inside there, and Hux is almost impressed at that notion. He knows that the one he visited with Kylo is unpopular, it’s farther out and is more popular with the hikers or passersby that are on the road anyway- This is the go-to place for everyone in town. 

 

He parks in one of the free lots next to the convenience store, deciding to pick up some essentials first. He keeps it to a minimum however, knowing that he’ll probably skip town again by the end of the week- Or whenever this party is anyway. He gets toothpaste and a brush, not bothering with bath-product because he’ll just use the stuff he found earlier. He does get some deodorant and cologne, just small packages for the time being. After he has that settled he picks up some snacks and food he likes to eat- Knowing his dad’s diet is not exactly balanced and healthy. Lastly he grabs two sweaters from a rack to keep warm, and a pair of pants that looks like they should fit. The girl at the counter doesn’t spare him much of a look, scanning his items while she continues chewing on her gum with the same bored expression. Hux doesn’t mind being ignored, it’s preferable to being hounded for his past here. The girl eventually hands him the two bags with his purchases and cocks her head a bit. 

 

“You look a bit like that missing kid around here- Heard of him?” 

 

Hux shrugs. 

 

“I haven’t been in town long.”

 

“Fair enough… It’s been like 15 years though. They are all a bit weird about it around here. I’ve heard that the other one completely lost it- Got shipped off by his dad to God knows what sort of place. Sometimes you wonder if they’re both in a ditch somewhere.” 

 

She shrugs a bit and turns away. 

 

“Anyway… The sweaters you bought come with a free pack of socks if you want.” 

 

She points at the basket next to the counter. 

 

“Right.” 

 

“Where you even from?”

 

“London.” 

 

She hums, eyebrows shooting up a bit as if it surprises her. 

 

“Huh, what’s a posh boy like you doing all the way out here?” 

 

“I’m beginning to wonder the same thing.” Hux mutters under his breath. 

 

He grabs two packs of the socks for the girl to scan and sighs. 

 

“You know… Just visiting.”

 

“Visiting what? You one of them alien-nutters?” 

 

She snickers a bit, as if she tries to imagine him running through the woods with a camera. 

 

“No… Visiting family.”

 

“Nice try, nobody around here’s got family elsewhere- It’s like leaving this fucking place is cursed… Nobody ever does.”

 

“Well I did.” Hux says, snatching the packs up and putting them with the rest so he can leave. “It’s where my dad ‘shipped me off to, after I lost it’.”

 

The girl widens her eyes a bit and then, to Hux’s surprise bonks her head down on the counter with a loud groan. 

 

“Oh my goooooooood, that’s so embarrassing.” 

 

Hux sighs and turns back to her. 

 

“It’s fine.” He murmurs. “I don’t doubt my dad hasn’t exactly been overjoyed at sharing details and people make their own stories instead.” 

 

“Still, please don’t tell my boss, I need this job so bad.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not petty.” 

 

“I can give you a free bag of Cheese Puffs?”

 

“Not really a Cheese Puffs kind of guy.”

 

“Ginger nuts?” 

 

Hux pulls up an eyebrow and the girl turns bright red before she starts stuttering again. 

 

“No! No… Dear god, not that. I mean actual roasted peanuts with-” 

 

She puts her face in her hands.

 

“Or like… Ten dollars if this conversation never happened.” She eventually whispers. 

 

“It’s fine, like I said.” 

 

He hoists the bags up his arms and takes a quick look at her name-tag. Rey, with a huge sparkling corgi-sticker on the side. 

 

“Take care, Rey.”

 

“Yeah...” She replies weakly.

 

Hux snorts a bit and leaves the store, shaking his head a bit. At least that was probably the most awkward conversation he’s going to have today- He hopes at least. He opens the trunk with some effort, trying to lift it high enough without the bags spilling over. He gets it eventually and tucks them in a corner so they won’t fall over as he drives. He hums and closes the car again, patting his hands on his pants as he turns to the diner instead, trying to remember what they even sold here to begin with. He sighs and puts his hands in his pockets again, knowing that his fingers are always the first to go cold in weather like this.

 

He strides forward and enters the diner, happy for the fact that it’s so boisterous that he can walk in without anyone looking up. It’s full of people, most of whom he recognizes, even from back then. He remembers some of the food he liked here. When groceries ran out in the house he would take Techie here and they would get a massive serving of the most delicious lasagna they’d ever had, made fresh here every day. Skywalker would give them free dessert too, as if he was well aware that they could use the pick-me-up on some days. Now, Hux doesn’t know the two guys that operate the bar, both younger than him at least. He smiles thinly when one of them notices him, walking up to the bar to take his order. 

 

“Hi, you ready to order?” He asks, procuring a notepad from the apron he has on. 

 

“Yeah, sure.” 

 

The other grins, pulling his pen from behind his ear. His grin is almost flirty, and Hux almost feels as if he gets a once-over that isn’t exactly out of curiosity. 

 

“Looking sharp, that coat looks pricey.” The guy remarks, leaning up on the edge of the bar. “What can I get ya, Red?” 

 

Hux sighs a bit and looks at the displays. 

 

“For starters, three chicken parmesan bagels, with extra crisped onions.” 

 

“Sounds like a Brendol order.” 

 

Hux snorts and nods. 

 

“Yeah, dad’s a creature of habit, I know.” 

 

“Dad?” 

 

Hux sighs a bit and sucks in his cheek.

 

“As for me, I’d like two of those boat sliders. One brown sugar and cinnamon and one with bacon and cream.” 

 

“Uhuh.” The other smirks. “Anything else?” 

 

“A lemon iced tea, large.” 

 

“Noted.”

 

“And do you guys still sell evening meals?”

 

“Yeah, Luke makes ‘em fresh and steaming every day.” 

 

Hux nods and cocks his head. 

 

“What’s the special?” 

 

“Spicy beef and noodles.” 

 

The man leans in again and narrows his eyes a bit. 

 

“Anyway... About the whole ‘dad’ thing-” 

 

“I’m not a big fan of spicy.” Hux interrupts. “Anything else?”

 

“There’s always lasagna, quite popular with most of our patrons. Nothing to warm a cold set of digits after a long day of hard work.”

 

“Three-person portion of that in a box to reheat.” 

 

“You got it, Red.” 

 

Hux snorts and steps away from the counter, leaning back against the opposite wall while the guy turns to his co-worker, sharing some of the order to make sure they can deliver on it fast. Hux doesn’t really know them. He thinks he knows the guy he gave his order to. There was a latino kid that looks an awful lot like this fellow that would do the paper route around their home. He would come play with Techie when Hux wasn’t home. He didn’t mind that Techie wouldn’t talk and was possibly the only person that resembled a friend for his brother. This guy looks a lot like that Poe, so Hux assumes he must be the same.

 

The other isn’t familiar. He looks younger, so he wouldn’t have crossed paths with him too often anyway. He’s been gone for a long time, the youngest face are stranger’s faces to him- But he recognizes the older ones. Townsfolk he used to chat with regularly, that would work with his dad, that would be in town when he and Techie visited. He just hopes his own face won’t be too recognizable for those same people. After all, the moment someone says his name out loud, he’ll be the centre of attention, and he isn’t keen on that. Not at all. He therefore ducks his head a bit when someone else steps up to the bar, asking for the rest of his coffee to go. The guy doesn’t take much heed of him, but the woman that now has a direct view of Hux tilts her head.

 

“Well, look at that.” She says, out loud so that everyone immediately looks at her. “Armitage Hux… I’d recognize that scowl of yours anywhere.” 

 

Hux sighs and darts his eyes towards her a bit. Ms. Unamo. She used to babysit them in their younger years, when Brendol had to work late and couldn’t be around. She was a police officer in training and it looks like she is the real deal now, either that or she’s really into Halloween costumes. 

 

“Cat’s got your tongue kiddo?” She demands. 

 

“I… I uh...” 

 

“Armitage Hux?” A lighter voice asks. “You mean, you’re the one with the- From the-” 

 

Hux turns to the source of it, feeling his nostrils flare. The one that spoke is also just a kid, can’t be older than 20, or just barely. He’s looking at Hux as if he’s seeing some cryptid rather than a person. 

 

“With the lights, the thing- And your brother...” 

 

“Yeah...” Hux starts reluctantly. 

 

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” A gruffer voice demands. “What’s your business around here?” 

 

Hux wrinkles up his nose at the sharp demands of whose voice it is. He’s never been too popular with Krennic. The guy has a superiority complex the size of a fucking mountain and has never quite gotten over the time Hux blew him out of the water during one of his masterclasses in town about engineering. Hux has to admit in hindsight that he overdid it, directly contesting his lecture while there were at least some 50 others watching. 

 

“I’m here for dad.” He mutters softly. 

 

“Well, best fuck off. We don’t need you ruining this town for a second time.” 

 

Hux surges up a bit. 

 

“Excuse me?!” 

 

“You heard me, little brat.” Krennic bites at him. “We’ve been doing fine since you left, so how about you stay away.”

 

He’s trying to make a scene, Hux knows he is. Despite being a solid 2 inches smaller than Hux, and aged quite a bit- He’s apparently still ready to throw down. Hux catches the stares and glares though. Nobody addresses him so openly, but he knows suspicion when he sees it. They’re not fond of him around here, they share Krennic’s opinion. 

 

“I can do whatever the fuck I like, Orson.” Hux hisses at him. “Perks of being an adult.” 

 

Krennic’s nostrils flare, they even give a bit of a twitch when he looks him in the face.

 

“You’ll find yourself encouraged, punk.” 

 

“Yo, Red. I got your order.” Poe interjects, holding out a paper bag over the edge of the counter. 

 

Hux darts his eyes to the side and then looks back at Krennic. 

 

“I’m not here to look for trouble, just to visit my dad. How about you get on my level instead of your high, high horse? You know, before it backfires- Again.” 

 

With that for a closing argument he turns and takes the bag from Poe’s fingers. 

 

“How much?” 

 

“Twenty-one.” Poe answers. “You good?” 

 

“I wasn’t waiting for a coombaya welcome anyway.” He huffs. “Do you take debit cards?”

 

“Sure.” 

 

Poe retrieves a machine from under the counter and taps in the amount for Hux before passing it for payment. Hux rushes his pincode and sighs, placing it back onto the counter. Poe smiles thinly at him and puts an extra packet in the bag. As he leans over to do so he gives Hux a look. 

 

“Techie was a great buddy of mine. He was an odd egg, but so much more clever than he seemed. If you need anything-”

 

“It’s fine.” Hux says again, nodding a bit. “But thanks.” 

 

He casts one last look inside the diner, knowing that it all looks a bit nervous and fleeting, and he turns to leave, the bitter taste definitely present in his mouth when he almost ducks into the car. He slams the door and bonks his head against the headrest, closing his eyes as he inhales a few times. He wasn’t ready for this… He feels sick, his stomach is knotting together and he feels as if his lungs have shriveled in his chest. 

 

“Fucking mess.” He mutters. “Fucking, goddamn mess… Why am I here?” 

 

He grits his teeth and rams his hands on the steering-wheel a few times, letting out a frustrated shout. 

 

“Why am I here? Why, why, fucking WHY?!” 

 

He sighs and rubs his hands over his face a few times, willing himself to calm down before he drives off. He’s not the most sensible driver when he’s angry after all, and the last thing he needs is an accident for speeding on slippery roads. He startles out of that thought when there’s a knock on the window. He snaps his head towards it and wearily looks at who’s there. It’s that kid, the one that eyed him so weirdly before. Hux stares him down, trying to glare hard enough so the other will back off, but he just stands there. Hux decides his day is already fucked as it is anyway so he rolls the window down. 

 

“What do you want?” He sighs. 

 

“You’re really him, right?” 

 

“Fucking hell-”

 

“My name is Dopheld… Dopheld Mitaka.” 

 

“Good for you.”

 

“I saw them too.” The other blurts as Hux reaches for the window again. “The lights!” 

 

“Well, don’t say it too loud, you see how popular that makes you.” 

 

“I can show you where they’re coming from.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I know where they’re coming from. I can show you.” 

 

Hux licks his lips and purses his lips shortly before he leans on the edge of the truck. 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“Yeah.” The boy insists, fumbling a bit. “There- There’s a party in the woods tomorrow. If you come I can take you to where they’re from after that.” 

 

Hux chews on his lip and then nods.

 

“Alright. But if this is a joke I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your fucking life, hear me?”

 

Mitaka nods vigorously and raises his head shortly, looking into the diner. 

 

“I’ll come pick you up at your dad’s.” He says. “My parents would kill me- Or you- If they knew I was talking to you.”

 

Hux hums and taps the steering-wheel. 

 

“Whose kid are you anyway?” He asks. “Never heard of Mitaka before.”

 

“My parents adopted me.” Mitaka explains. “They let me keep my real name so it might be easier to find my family back if I want someday.” 

 

“That must be kind of weird.”

 

“Not really.” Mitaka murmurs. “They’re kind enough, a name is just a name.”

 

“So, why do they hate the idea of you interacting with me so much?”

 

“Same reason anyone in town has. What happened with you and your brother is weird- And people don’t much care for weird. My dad especially- He always talks how proud he is of the Motti ancestry being such a key-factor in witch-hunting back in the day.”

 

“Motti… Conan Motti, that’s your dad?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Well, good luck with that then.” 

 

He remembers Motti, he was an arrogant piece of ass and always would be. He’d be at the station often, telling Brendol how to do his job, insisting on privileges or access to information- Just because he owned the biggest business in town. Nobody really liked him, but in order to have a sort of comfortable life around here you needed to tolerate him. Hux hates his guts almost as much as he hates Krennic’s- No surprise that those two are friends. 

 

“You’re coming then? To the party?” Mitaka asks, hopeful. 

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there when you come pick me up.”

 

Mitaka smiles, as if he considers it a victory, and steps away from the window. Hux gives him a small nod and rolls the window back up before he turns on the ignition. He drives home with the radio on loudly, hoping the soothing nature of a languid tune can help him relax. Still, his knuckles are white around the steering wheel and he feels his jaw clenching so hard that it starts to give him a headache. He feels oversensitized, his focus is gone and all he really notices are blobs and blurs. Sounds don’t register completely- Sights flash by in hazes that he can’t really make sense of. He makes it home without trouble though, making sure that he’s at least present enough to monitor his speed and account for the weather. What a day, and it's only noon.


End file.
